Ghosts of Our Past
by sloneczenie
Summary: A dying promise from her husband has led Antonina Casey to a new life in Birmingham. As she struggles to find The Garrison, a chance encounter has placed Antonina into the path of Thomas Shelby. Will she accept life after death? Series 1: A Dying Promise, Series 2: A Broken Promise
1. A Dying Promise: Part One

As a general warning, I do not own the characters of the Peaky Blinders. The creation of the original character is my own work.

* * *

Ghosts of Our Past: A Dying Promise

Part One:

Birmingham, England

January 1919

The smoke from the freshly lit cigarette on the tips of my fingers seemingly mixed in with the smoke and smog that lay heavy within the Birmingham air. Although the residents of Birmingham seemed well accustomed to the thick smog and smoke of the atmosphere, the air was overwhelming to outsiders: this air could suck the very life from your lungs in an instant, threatening to choke you before you even dared to take your first full breath of the morning.

And yet as I took my first breath as I stepped off of the train that took me from Southampton to Birmingham, I dared to imagine that the heavy air seemed to represent the freedom and new life that was taking place for me. I imagined that this was a fresh start, away from the death and carnage that took place on the fields of Flanders. I tried to imagine the happiness that seemed just around the corner for me. The crushing reality of the situation, not the Birmingham smog, seemed to suck the air from my lungs with a jolt. As soon as the fantasy slipped my mind, I shook my head as if to get rid of the childlike hope. Truth be told, my capacity for hope had died months before.

Clutching the small piece of paper that held the address of The Garrison, a local pub that I soon hoped to call my home and occupation, I began to walk with my small suitcase and handbag to the destination. I had no idea where I was going in the moment, but I wanted to get away from the train station, away from the reunions of loved ones taking place around me. In the moment, I would have rather been transported back to the makeshift hospitals in France, away from happiness and love. It threatened to strangle me, as I picked up the pace down the Birmingham streets.

As a last dying promise from David, my husband, I was told that his closest mate, Harry Fenton, would take me in as his own as soon as my nursing duties had ended in France. In David's final moments, I had only taken the piece of paper and letter of instruction without a word of protest because of the fierce determination that he held giving me the paper with the address with his last letter. I knew in that moment that he would die. My reassurances of his survival had meant nothing to us as the minutes dwindled. My unanswered prayers to a higher power would be just that: unanswered. Minutes later, David had died in front of my own eyes, holding my hand.

Truth be told, I did not want to have any connections to the very life that lay in carnage on the fields of the war of attrition. The Great War, as they called it, had left the greatest hole within my heart and soul. In an attempt to absolve myself of the shame of living following David's passing, I threw myself into tending to the sick and wounded soldiers-the honorary brothers of David-to make sure that no sister, mother, or wife would ever feel the carnage within their hearts as I have.

Once I was dismissed from my nursing duties, I finally felt the crushing weight of my loss and the loss of the life that I once had. I could not return to my family, living within the United States. The day that I had signed up for the American Red Cross as a nurse on the Western Front was the very day that I had died to my family. I had turned my back on the family business. I had left Chicago for something unforgivable: love in the shadow of war.

The absence of my return would only confirm to my family that I had really died on the front. In all honesty, I had died during the war. I did not want to return to the world as Antonina Paltrowicz. I would fulfill his dying promise of going to Birmingham, to the city that he once called home in his wayward youth.

I would set about my new life as Antonina Casey. I would continue to preserve David Casey's memory through his namesake: vigilant, watchful in war.

I wonder if God had used his namesake as a sick, irony the day that the attack occurred against David's squadron. In the weeks leading up to the attack that would eventually take him, David had written ominously about something bad coming. I thank his premonition, though. He had written a letter, with the Garrison's address in the event that David and I could no longer begin our new life. Tears sprung my eyes as I recalled the last days of his life, spent in a goddamn makeshift hospital on the western front. I dropped my suitcase, as I pulled my cigarette case from my overcoat to spring a match. I needed the nicotine to clear my head. What an irony it was for me to be smoking, as a former nurse. If life wouldn't take me yet, I had the only hope that the cigarettes would speed up the process.

"Excuse me, miss?"

A man's voice had jolted me from the perilous thoughts and I dropped my match in response. I was annoyed, though grateful, for the interruption to remind myself that it was unsafe to meander around a town that I had no grasp upon. I turned to the man, with a cigarette in my mouth. Piercing blue eyes met mine. I dropped the cigarette from my mouth and I involuntarily gasped. His eyes. They reminded me of David, so much so that if I was drunk with whiskey I would have sworn it was him through foggy eyes. I straightened my back, meeting his gaze with my own. With as much bravado as I could muster, I answered David's ghost.

"Yes, may I help you?"


	2. A Dying Promise: Part Two

Part Two:

I held my breath as David's ghost continued to hold my gaze. It seemed to be years before he spoke.

When I heard the thick Birmingham accent, I relaxed. Truth be told, I was worried that I had been imagining his ghost come to fruition in the streets of Birmingham. I was no stranger to madness.

"Forgive me, love, but you look terribly lost and out of place. May I ask why you have arrived in Birmingham from America?" The intensity of his gaze would have likely thrown any other woman into an anxiety ridden reply. I could imagine how she would have tripped over herself in explaining the dull details of her voyage here.

But I was not that woman. After years with my family and the war, I didn't dare quake under the icy blue storm of his gaze.

So, I picked the cigarette up, lighting another match before speaking.

"Sadly, I have just arrived from France. I came as soon as I was dismissed from my nursing duties. While I am American, I have not been there in years, nor do I plan to return," I spoke sharply as I exhaled my cigarette. His wince at the mention of France made me soften my hard exterior momentarily.

It was arrogant of me to speak of France in the way that I had as most of these men would have been soldiers there. However, I was agitated that this stranger was the ghost of David and he was inserting himself into a time where I wanted to find the pub alone. It would already be difficult enough to explain my appearance at The Garrison to this Harry Fenton with my dead husband's letter. I had no promise that Harry Fenton would even take me in. That chance would be greatly diminished if I showed up with some other man.

"What business do you have here then, Miss-"

"Casey. Miss Antonina Casey."

"What a strange name with an Irish surname," he spoke. I was unsure if he was talking to himself or if he was inviting me to explain myself. I had no interest in telling this man anything. Yet, I began to explain myself anyways.

"I do not imagine that you are simple minded to consider a foreign name strange. It is of Polish and Russian origins. My parents were Polish and Russian immigrants. You can gather that my surname was not always Casey, though I do not seem to know why this matters to you, Mister-"

He interrupted me, appearing amused that I had the audacity to speak to him in this manner.

"Mister Thomas Shelby."

"Well pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Shelby, however I have business to attend to with a Mr. Harry Fenton and I must be off." My response brought a mask of mild surprise to his piercing eyes, though it disappeared within an instant.

"As you are new to my city, I will be happy to escort you to The Garrison meself."

His city? I was shocked that he immediately knew the location and its association with Mr. Fenton. Then, I reminded myself that he clearly would know the location and Harry Fenton. He lived here, I was just a new arrival, lost as can be. I sighed, attempting to reject his company. I needed no more reminders of the ghosts of my past.

"No thank you, I can find it on my own-"

"You are walking in the completely wrong direction, love. Please allow me to accompany you, so you do not fall into the wrong hands or into the hands of an owner of a brothel. I do not assume that you are a whore, unless I am wrong, aye?"

The old Antonina would have been shocked by the crass nature in which he spoke to me. The war had changed that. I simply crushed my cigarette with my boot and I returned his gaze. I sighed, relenting my control as I really had no fucking clue where I was going.

"If I was a whore, I am sure my life would be a lot easier for me, filled with pleasure. Alas, I have already given myself to a life of misery. Now, if you would be so kind to escort me to the pub, I would be grateful." A twinkle in his eyes had shocked me and warmed a part of me that I thought was dead. I crushed the feeling as soon as it appeared. I would never let that feeling arise again. It only brought poor luck for me. My cold exterior returned.

Sensing a change within my demeanor, I walked with Mr. Thomas Shelby in silence.

* * *

Thomas Shelby had started that morning as he started every morning. Woken by the sounds of shovels scraping at his wall, he jumped to his gun as he frantically sought to wipe the sleep from his eyes at dawn. Sighing, he wiped the sweat from his face, reminding himself that he was in England. Not daring to take more moments of his already busy day with ghosts of the past, he dressed himself and left the family home.

After attending to business with his uncle at the shipyard, he went to the Garrison to have a glass of whiskey, verbally sparring with his former best friend Freddie Thorne. After an unsettling experience with Danny Whizzbang's shell shock flashbacks, Tommy had left the Garrison to clear his mind. He lit his cigarette as he walked down the streets of Birmingham. As he passed the town's residents, they would tip their hats at him and moved out of the way for him as if he were God himself. The thought amused Tommy in a way that only those who had gone to war could understand: in his view, God was dead and he had died on the fields of Flanders.

As he turned the corner towards his home, he felt the air being sucked from his lungs and a lump in his throat. It was if the ghost of Greta came to life in front of him. Shaking his head, his line of vision returned to one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes upon. The wave of despair was suddenly filled by a wave of longing.

The young woman stood, with wavy, short chocolate brown hair and delicate Eastern European features. Her hazel eyes had shown with tears as she had attempted to light a cigarette. She was not tall, just above five feet. Underneath her navy blue dress, he could see that she was thin, though she had muscle definition on her that told him that she was not a young woman that tended to the household in previous years. Her demeanor told him that she was not a whore, either. Her eyes and stance told him that her mind was a million miles from this moment in Birmingham. She looked lost and it pained him to see her look helpless.

He startled her when he spoke, as she turned to look at the source of the intrusion of her thoughts, he saw that he had frightened her in a manner that was unlike anything that he had seen in a woman. First she had dropped her match, then her cigarette. A million emotions ran across her face, but two that he had recognized was an ungodly amount of fear and pain. His stomach fell, as he had not wanted to intimidate this beautiful creature before him. As if she noticed her reaction mirrored in his face, she quickly straightened her back, holding her own. Her response further shocked him. She seemed like a fighter. He liked that.

When she answered, he was taken aback by the American accent. He had assumed that a thick Russian or Polish accent would tumble out. It shocked him even more when her first name had no identifiable match with her surname. She did not explain it to him, which intrigued him. Though he was a gentler soul than most gangsters, he was mildly offended that she did not seem to fall over her words in an attempt to explain it. She wore no wedding ring, though for a small ring and larger ring attached to her necklace chain gave her away for a widow. It surprised him even more that she had been to France and that she business with The Garrison. Not abandoning his ways, he tested her to see if she were here to sell her body.

Most women of her nature would have scoffed, but she passed the test with flying colors as she denied such an occupation. He felt an unanticipated wave of excitement when she had reluctantly agreed to let him accompany her. Her sudden return of the cold exterior troubled him greatly and he felt himself unsure of how to proceed with her as they walked. So, he let her be alone in her thoughts. As she began to chain smoke another cigarette, her actions seemed to reflect his own when he was deep in thought, tackling ghosts of the past.

Thomas Shelby was unsettled by the sudden appearance of Greta's ghost. Even more, he was unsettled by his uncharacteristic reaction to her. He started to question why he had even offered to escort her there. She seemed capable enough. Who was this woman? Why did she choose a life of misery?

He stole glances at her, studying her features closely. Her beauty was mesmerizing, he could not deny it. Her hazel eyes held a window into her soul that entranced him. She was a tortured soul, hellbent on some mission to fulfill. Her face was sparkled with freckles, which were wrinkled as she was deep in thought. Her lips were full, painted with a red rouge as if it were her war paint.

She was heavenly.

Interrupting his thoughts, her short hair ruffled in the wind and it was then that he saw it. Marred skin had crept out from her back and neck. His breath caught in his throat. He had recognized those scars: she had been cut by someone repeatedly. A sudden anger flashed through him: how did this young woman get these scars? Who did this to her? Were they from France? Or were they from her past life in America?

As they walked in silence, he resolved to find the answers to his many questions.


	3. A Dying Promise: Part Three

Content Warning: Mentions of Suicidal Ideation, Death

* * *

Part Three:

A million thoughts came racing through my mind as I walked with Mr. Shelby. This was all unexpected. My brows furrowed, as I assessed the situation.

Following David's death, I couldn't plan past that day. Each new day brought in a wave of soldiers injured to tend to and I worked to the point of exhaustion to keep his blue eyes, glazed over with death from my mind. When the nursing duties ended, images of his death flashed before my eyes constantly. I had fallen to bits. In fact, just a week before, I was huddled in a pile screaming and wailing from the immense emotional turmoil that I was in, in the small hotel room that I had booked in France. I cursed God and the heavens for this entire fucking mess. I began to throw my belongings all across the room, smashing the vases of the beautiful flowers. I could not do this anymore. If his soul was left in France, so would mine. Taking a broken shard, I had been prepared to press it to my arm to end the pain when I heard his voice clear as day, telling me to fulfill my promise.

Normally that would have shocked anyone out of the state. While it was a shock to me, I reacted almost animalistically. I kept throwing more and more of my items around the room. It was only through the fit of drunken rage that I rediscovered the piece of paper with the address. It sank in.

The next morning, I booked my ship ticket and train ticket to get to where I was now. I only took the necessary belongings and reminders of David with me.

Now as I walked the streets of Birmingham, his ghost was accompanying me to find his closest mate to fulfill the promise. I blinked several times, stealing glances at Mr. Shelby as we strolled upon the streets. Was this David's way of watching out for me from beyond?

Initially I wanted to scoff at the thought, but I took peace in the thought anyways. Despite my lack of belief in God, I continued to hold hope that somehow, David was still with me.

There was no denying that Mr. Shelby was a beautiful man. Though he held the same deep blue eyes as David, the resemblance ended there. His strong jawline and high cheekbones could cut a man where he stood. I could not make out the color of his hair, as a cap had covered the parts that were unshaven. The razor blades sewn into his cap quickly caught my eyes away from studying his features. I felt my eyes widen and I resolved to gaze ahead. I should have been afraid; but in all honesty, I was more in awe of the ingenuity of the cap.

As we walked, it became evident to me that he was a man of importance, as people parted the way on the street for us like God had parted the Red Sea. It was funny how many of my metaphors extended to God in moments like this-in my mind, God was dead and he had died on the fields of Flanders.

It was only before we stood before The Garrison that Mr. Shelby interrupted my thoughts yet again. He had asked why I was there. I know that I was being hostile to a man who had no bounds to get me safely to my destination. He owed me nothing and I treated him as a nuisance. Still, I turned to answer spitefully, but I stopped as his eyes had softened.

His gaze captivated my interest, as if it could pierce into my soul. My mouth felt as if it were filled with glue. Before I could answer, a group of men carried a bloodied man through us into the pub. Mr. Shelby cursed, as he guided me into a small private room with him. I had no time to question my involvement, once we entered the room.

"Arthur, what the fuck happened to ya?" He interrogated the poor, bleeding man. I held my impulse to roll my eyes: the man had obviously been beaten.

"Aye, a new fuckin' copper is in town. He beat me fuckin' ragged," Arthur, the bleeding man, answered. The men in the room noticed my presence, unsure of how a woman would react to a man beaten to a pulp. The sight did not faze me-I had seen and dealt with worse. I was perfect for the situation, though I was unsure if my presence was even wanted. This was second nature to me.

Still, it shocked me when my nursing instincts took over and I began to tend to this Arthur without being asked.

"Please get me some alcohol, gauze, and stitching materials," I asked the men standing before me. Thomas Shelby remained unsure of me. His apprehension reminded me of my family's treatment to outsiders, much like they reacted to David. I sighed.

"You don't have to-" Thomas Shelby began.

"I SAID, bring me the damned materials, now," I demanded. "Please," I spoke as an afterthought.

My brazenness had shocked the men in the room and I knew that I had spoken out of turn. Regardless of my lack manners, someone immediately scurried to get the materials and I began my work over Arthur. It was nice to know that I hadn't lost my authority to command in these situations.

"Aye, love, you are like an angel. Once you're done stitchin' me, maybe I can get to stitchin' ya if ya know what I mean," Arthur told me. I rolled my eyes. I was no stranger to sexual innuendos from injured men on the front.

"Miss Casey will not be servicin' ya, Arthur, she is not a whore. Now let the good nurse stitch you up." Thomas Shelby's voice boomed and the discussion ended, as I took care to patch up this man. His intervention appeared to shock the others and I was grateful to this Mr. Shelby, yet again. I felt conflicted. I hated owing anyone anything and this man seemed to be my protector without even being asked. I frowned at this revelation.

The time passed rather quickly. Following Thomas Shelby's declaration, Arthur apologized for his joke and he was actually a pleasure to talk to. In fact, I really enjoyed the company of Arthur. He reminded me of a man that I had met during my nursing duties. It was strange how welcomed I felt by this man. As I finished my last stitching, Arthur caught my eye.

"What is your name, love?" he had asked me.

"My name is Antonina Casey," my cold exterior completely gone, as I answered warmly. I felt the sudden change in the atmosphere from Thomas Shelby. A sudden hardness had shown through his eyes towards me.

Was he troubled that I was being kind to this man? It seemed odd, given that he held no bounds to me and I held no bounds to him.

"Aye, Antonina is a mouthful. May I call you Toni?"

The shorthand for my name sucked the wind out of me. Tears sprang to my eyes and I quickly blinked them away, though it was not unnoticed. Only David had called me Toni.

"I prefer Antonina, if that is alright with you Mr.-"

"Arthur Shelby, pleased to make ya acquaintance, lass. No Toni, just Antonina," Arthur spoke, smoothing over the uncomfortableness of my tears in the room. Another Shelby. I smiled gratefully at Arthur. He returned the look, with a pain in his eye that had nothing to do with the stitching and mending that I had done. This man knew pain, far beyond the reaches of the physical sense. I turned to Thomas and nodded, hoping that I would be able to attend to the business that I had set out upon. As if he read my mind, he beckoned me to follow him.

"Come with me, Ms. Casey."

I sighed, knowing that I could not escape his company. Momentarily, I was thankful with his presence as he called a man who I had assumed was Harry Fenton to us. I froze. Thomas looked over to me and nodded to me, to let me know that he would take care of it. Another debt that I seemingly owed this man. I sighed.

"Hello Mr. Shelby, what can I do ya for now?"

"Harry, I have a Ms. Antonina Casey here to see you. I do not know why she is here, however she was of great assistance to the Peaky Blinders in our time of need. Please see to it that you help her with what she needs. By order of the Peaky Blinders," Thomas Shelby said, as he nodded and he left us to be.

I was stunned by his declaration, as I felt that I owed him much more than he owed me. I felt a lump in my throat and I felt momentarily shameful for my behavior towards him. It was not his fault that he reminded me of David, with his eyes. I had no time to even thank him and I felt momentarily lost without his presence. I tried to remind myself my fondness was misplaced, as it was because of how closely his eyes had resembled David's.

My attention turned to the situation at hand. I sucked in a breath of confidence, as Harry Fenton's wide eyes turned to meet my own. I was not sure if my surname or the mention of the Peaky somethings or whatever it was had invited such a wave of shock into his face. We stood silently, willing the other to begin. Harry took a breath and he began the conversation.

"Casey. Ms. Antonina Casey. You were David's wife. I have been expecting you, though I did not expect the Peaky Blinders would have escorted you here," he spoke, testing the untrod waters between us. This was not ideal. I had broken some invisible barrier by my unknowing association with Mr. Thomas Shelby. Despite this, I sighed in relief, as Mr. Fenton had at least known about me and my impending arrival.

"Mr. Fenton, I am-" I faltered as I began, feeling the wave of crushing emotions threatening to strangle me where I stood.

"Please, call me Harry, lass. Let us go in the back to talk privately. I will have my barmaid, Grace, take care of the pub for the moment." He motioned for me to follow him to the room in the back. I caught the gaze of the blonde barmaid, as her eyes looked over me questionably. I felt an alarm ring through my head as I eyed her. She held my look and my eyes bore into hers. Her character reminded me of the treacherous souls of Chicago. She was not to be trusted.

My thoughts on the barmaid were cut into, as Harry and I went into a small room, with a few chairs and a desk. He motioned for me to sit and I sat down. I swallowed the lump in my throat, as I held the address and letter of instruction in my grasp. Harry looked down as he read it over and he nodded, willing me to begin. I swallowed, reminding myself that this was not the worst thing that I had ever faced.

"I have a letter here from David for you. David promised me that you would take care of me and I could work at the pub, while I got on my feet from the war. I know that you may not have expected my arrival with the Peaky something or another-"

"Peaky Blinders," he corrected, though it seemed to appease him that I seemed to have no idea who they were. The tension diminished quickly.

"Right...however, I am at a loss of where to begin. I came here on a dying promise of a man that I loved very much." I couldn't continue to talk anymore as fear consumed me. What if he wouldn't take me? I cursed myself for the display of my emotions. I had lived through the streets of Chicago with my family and the Great War. I used to be Antonina fucking Paltrowicz. Why was I faltering now? As if he knew my thoughts, he began with a reassuring speech to me.

"I know why you are here. I want you to know that you are welcome here for as long as you need to be here. I was David's best mate. You are kin to me, whether you have known of me or not. I wanted to extend my deepest condolences to ya. I know that he loved you dearly. I will take care of ya, Toni. I promised him this and I promise you this," as Harry said this, he grabbed my hand and held it.

Normally, I would have pulled my hand away at a man's contact, but Harry already felt like kin to me. Choking on the emotions and hearing David's nickname for me, I let the tears spill. Crying was a sign of weakness, something that I had learned to suppress early on in Chicago. Yet, I wanted to tell him how grateful I was for this. I could only nod my head and squeeze his hand. He seemed to understand.

"I am sure that you are exhausted from your travels and the war. I have a room above The Garrison, waiting for you. You can start as my second barmaid this week once you are rested. It may be good to have a second anyways, as this place is rather busy with the return of men from the war."

Although Harry's words were meant to reassure me that I was not a financial burden, I felt the pain of his last comment. Men returned from war, but at what cost?

Sensing my unease, he took me to the room above The Garrison. Although the room may not have been much to others, the hospitality of the actions in preparing the room for me warmed my cold heart. He had attempted to make it more lively and homely with the small collection of items that he could. He showed me the bed with a beautiful red quilt, with the small end table with a red oil lamp. Touches of David's care were evident, even after death. David knew how much that I loved the color red. There was a small table in the middle of the room with chairs and place mats. Beside the table, a small stove and a collection of small cabinets were there for storage. I looked out the small window of the room, onto the streets of Birmingham.

Before leaving, Harry faltered momentarily as if he wanted to say more. Changing his mind, he handed me a key and bid me good day.

I sat in the chair, drinking in the surroundings of the room. Minutes turned to hours, as I allowed myself to replay the memories of happier times. When I came to the present, I realized that the daylight had turned into dusk. I sighed, realizing that I needed to stop living within the relative, stolen safety of the past before the war. I needed to accept the afterwar period.

I opened the window to let the chilled air in and I lit a cigarette, as I sat on the window ledge to observe the surroundings of my new home.

A sole figure walking down the street caught my attention as I flicked the cigarette ash out of the window.

Thomas Shelby's blue eyes had found me in the night. I was unable to look away.

* * *

The afternoon had taken a rather unexpected turn for Thomas Shelby. Antonina Casey had shocked him as he saw a glimpse into the life that Antonina had during the war. What would have made any other women ill, it brought a sudden calm to her spirit. Antonina sprang into action to help his brother without a moment's thought or hesitation. It troubled him how comfortable she felt with Arthur, even after the sexual innuendo he had made at her. She was unfazed, except for the bit where Arthur had tried calling her Toni. Of all the things to be upset about, this was the bit that did it for her. As he watched as the tears filled her eyes, he felt perplexed by her display of emotions. Who was this woman? What past was she running from?

After the introductions were made with Harry, he felt that he must leave her to confront the ghosts of her past.

The entire afternoon with her made him want to know more about the troubled woman.

Following an uncomfortable confrontation with Polly about the stolen guns and the family meeting about the new copper, he walked the streets of Birmingham to clear his head yet again for the second time today. He needed to have a clear mind for the plans that he held with the Lees and the situation with the guns.

Yet, his mind repeatedly returned to Antonina Casey.

Soon, he would have his answers. Following the family meeting, he asked his men to dig around for information on her past, her family, and her time during the war. He wanted to know why Harry Fenton had taken her in.

He would know what led her to Birmingham.

As he was walking, he found himself gazing up at the windows above The Garrison. It was there that he found the woman who clouded his mind staring out her window. Her beauty was only intensified by her grief. As she flicked her cigarette ash out the window, he met her gaze.

Her hazel eyes bore into his and he could not look away.


	4. A Dying Promise: Part Four

Part Four:

Although I was far from the fields of the mass graves of France, the nightmares returned to find me in the dead of night.

" _Toni, I do not have much time left."_

 _In fear, I shook my head and murmured to my love that he would make it through these injuries. I would nurse him back to health. We would move back to America, far away from this hell and begin our family. As I told him this, he smiled bitterly. Shaking his head, a fierce determination took hold of him. It scared me to the reality of the situation, that I hoped to evade._

 _Pressing a letter and piece of paper into my hand, I looked down at his beautiful calligraphy, perplexed. Fearfully, he spoke, rushed._

" _Toni, the last two years and a half with you have been the best times of my life. I love you. I swore to protect you as long as I live. I know that we will be separated by death soon enough. I need you to know that I will take care of you in death. I have written down the address of my best mate, Harry Fenton. You must give him this letter, explaining everything. I have written to him before, but I cannot promise you that he received my letters. You cannot return to America without me. You know that they will find you. I swore to you that I would keep you away from them. You must promise me that you will continue to live. You must do this for me."_

" _I cannot go on without you David, I cannot-"_

" _Antonina Urszula Casey, you will do this for me. My dying promise to you is that you will be taken care of. You must go to Birmingham. The people there, they will take care of you."_

" _They will take care of you."_

 _I nodded, squeezing his hand. "I promise, David."_

" _Will you sing to me?"_

 _Only when I turned to meet the eyes of David, his face became Thomas Shelby's staring back at me._

Screaming, I awoke from the nightmares that threatened to pull me under. Attempting to rid the smell of decay and death from my nostrils, I lit a cigarette, rising from my bed. I turned around, groggily, suddenly remembering that I was in Birmingham.

 _"They will take care of you."_

David's words had stuck with me in the coming days.

Days had passed as I allowed myself to wallow in the grief, adjusting to the absence of war, chaos, and suffering. After three days, I told myself that it was time to try to live. Enough was enough. I had a promise to keep and a life to continue. I had to forget.

On that Friday afternoon, I had begun my occupation as a barmaid of The Garrison.

It was not lost onto Harry that my skills were likely better suited for a hospital, but he knew that I could not bring myself to ignore David's wishes as he wanted me away from reminders of France, despite my brief stint in helping Arthur just days before.

Yet, it was soon evident that the chaos of the war had aptly prepared me for the chaos of being a barmaid. There were still messes to clean, needs to tend to, and men to be soothed. Harry showed me the specifics of the spirits and ales, giving me advice on how to interact with the men of Birmingham.

The coming days had passed rather quickly. I enjoyed the spirit of The Garrison. The joyful and tough atmosphere of the working class was soothing in a way that I could not explain. I even enjoyed working with the other barmaid Grace, despite the intuitive nagging in my soul that told me not to trust her. She asked me questions about my life over the next few days, which I gave concise, but polite answers to. It bothered me how interested she was in my former life. As far as I was concerned, my former life was gone. It went into flames as soon as the war had begun.

At one point during the next week, I started to feel bad about the coldness that I had first shown her. During the afternoon, she began to tell me about her life and how she missed Dublin. She spoke of her life in the way that told me that she had suffered a significant loss. Maybe she was just another poor old soul, who ended up here due to circumstances outside her control. After all, the war had changed everything. As the pub began to come to life, I flashed her a warm smile, as she helped patrons of The Garrison.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the pub as the three men strolled in. Without looking up, I had already known that it was the Shelby brothers' entering that silenced the men before me. I quelled all hopes that I would get to talk to Thomas Shelby, the man who had appeared in my dreams and the man that I had owed so much to. Though he had frequented the pub in the time following our first meeting, he was an enigma. He would enter and exit the private room before I could even catch his attention. It puzzled me that he would only engage Grace or Harry during his time at The Garrison, regarding me as if I did not exist or I was a nuisance.

The treatment was fitting. After all, I had been nothing but impolite at best to him. I sighed, briefly stealing a glance towards him. It shocked me that he had been staring at me, with an intense gaze.

For the first time in weeks, a spark had returned to my heart in a way that I could not explain. Arthur and another man walked into the private room, as Thomas walked up to the bar.

"Hello Antonina. I am happy to see that Harry gave you the help that you needed," he mused as his eyes flashed to meet mine.

"Hello Mr. Shelby. I wanted to thank you for your time a few weeks ago. I found myself realizing that I likely seemed rather ungrateful for your assistance. I want to apologize to you, sincerely, and thank you again," I spoke, maintaining his gaze. Although he momentarily seemed taken aback, he recovered himself enough to nod in understanding. Feeling rather uncomfortable, I smiled and asked him what I could get him for the day.

"A bottle of Irish whiskey and three glasses. Could you bring ale into the room in fifteen minutes time?"

"Certainly, Mr. Shelby," I answered, relieved to break his gaze.

As I fetched the whiskey, Harry strode over to me and told me that anything Mr. Shelby wanted, was on the house.

"It is on the house, Mr. Shelby," I said, smiling. Thomas held a strange look, smiling, as he took the whiskey and glasses. His eyes followed me, even as he entered the private room. I felt like I was in a spell, trapped under a powerful trance. It was only when Harry came up to me, red faced, that I snapped back to the present.

"Toni, I know that you have not been dealing with the Shelby men as Grace and myself have, but I need ya to know that if I say it is on the house, don't bloody mention that to them. I know that you are still new here, but you know very well that Mr. Shelby owns this town. The Peaky Blinders are the law and the gods of this town. I know that you can hold your own, but ya must know-if one of them wants ya, there is nothing that I can do for ya to stop it. Ya understand me, love?"

His admonishment was meant to warn me, but it irritated the hell out of me. I was a grown woman, who sewed back together men in France. I had been through hell and back literally during my short life. I had the scars to prove it. I was not afraid of the Peaky fucking Blinders.

Grace noticed my expression as Harry left and smiled, knowingly.

"He gave me the same lecture when I first started-don't worry ya none. We are strong women who can handle ourselves, ya hear? Not to mention, I don't think any of them are interested in the likes of you," Grace said, a strange look coming across her face. What meant to be encouragement had come across as a warning to me.

It was only then that it clicked: she had eyes for Thomas Shelby. She felt territorial of Thomas and I was encroaching on that. I snorted, rolling my eyes. I decided to busy myself with the ale, before I told off Grace in more languages than just English.

As I entered the room, all eyes of the men were on me. I told myself that it was just the ale they pined after, but I knew that they were watching me. I smiled, knowing that their fascination was only skin deep. Beauty was superficial, after all.

Thomas thanked me for the ale, his eyes lingering on me. A look in his eyes willed me to believe his temporary fascination with me was beyond the superficial, though Harry's warning and Grace's unintentional threat began to take hold in my mind.

"Aye, lass, you are still here! You're looking much more alive than when I saw ya last!" Arthur exclaimed. I smiled at Arthur, nodding, not knowing what to say to his awkward observation. "Aye, I want ya to meet me brother, John. This here barmaid Antonina is a nurse, John. She stitched me up herself a few weeks ago!"

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Shelby," I said as I extended my hand to shake his.

"Nice to meet ya, Toni," John said as he shook my hand. I winced at the mention of Toni again, though I think it was coming along easier in the coming weeks since my tenure as a barmaid began.

"It is Antonina, John," Thomas said, his voice clipped.

"Apologies, love." John said, smiling reassuringly.

"No apologies needed. Can I get you men anything else?" I asked, before being politely dismissed.

I breathed in deeply, as I returned to the chaos of The Garrison.

The night wore on, as more and more business came in. Grace and I were moving quickly. During a particular moment of tension between two pub patrons, Grace had begun to sing a beautiful melody. The tension left the air and immediately, others began to sing. I found myself longing to enjoy it, when suddenly the lyrics cut me to the core. The song. There it was, from my nightmares. I couldn't fucking breathe. Harry caught my eye, nodding to my unspoken request to leave. He had known.

"I'm a young girl, and have just come over,

Over from the country where they do things big,

And amongst the boys I've got a lover,

And since I've got a lover, why I don't care a fig.

The boy I love is up in the gallery,

The boy I love is looking now at me,

There he is, can't you see, waving his handkerchief,

As merry as a robin that sings on a tree-"

I ran out of The Garrison, hoping to be unnoticed by the patrons. As I fled, I nearly knocked over Thomas Shelby leaving the private room. Fuck fuck fuck fucking hell, I thought as I hit the cold air. The panic began to consume me.

In France, the other nurses taught us breathing exercises to help us with the anxiety. What was funny to me, was that I never used this technique to calm down until after David's death. The blood, the dying, the loss hadn't affected me greatly until his death.

I sank down on the street and covered my eyes, as I willed myself to be back in the moment. I was so angry with myself-it had been weeks since my last outburst. I should have been okay. A silly song from a damn Irish barmaid brought it all back. God damn Grace Burgess back to Dublin where she came from.

"So I am guessing the singing wasn't to your liking?"

I gasped as I heard the words of Thomas Shelby as he strode towards me. What a fucking whizzbang I looked like as I sat in the street. I felt an unwelcome feeling of embarrassment take over me. Every time he had initiated conversation with me outside of the setting of the pub, I had either been on the verge of tears or on the edge of madness.

Yet, as he approached me, his sight helped me return to the present. I immediately felt the chill air as I realized I had ran out of the pub with no overcoat, in my long maroon dress. Involuntarily, I shivered. Whether it was the cold or his gaze, I didn't know. I found myself answering honestly, shocking myself at the display of my vulnerability.

"No Mr. Shelby, the melody was beautiful, but I couldn't bare to listen to the words," I answered, taking his hand as he lifted me up. His touch was electrifying. He shrugged out of his coat, offering it to me. I hesitated before taking it. I sighed. Why was this man always rescuing me without hesitation or prompt?

To his everlasting credit, he just nodded. He lit a cigarette and offered it to me. I took it and inhaled it. I found myself thinking about how just a moment before it touched his lips. There was something erotic about it.

He cleared his throat, cutting the tension.

"So no more singing at The Garrison. That will be done," he spoke as he struck a match to light another cigarette.

I snorted.

"Don't be cutting the singing just for the feelings of little old me," I had attempted to joke, but as the sentence ended, I had choked on the words. It was not unnoticed.

"There wasn't any singing during the war, I am told. So there will be none now," Thomas Shelby said as he inhaled his cigarette. His tone made it known that there would be no further discussion in the matter. I felt satisfaction at his words. I sighed, not knowing what to say as we stood in silence outside The Garrison. I finished the cigarette, stubbing it out with my boot. This seemed to be our ritual. It was hard to admit that I liked these private moments with Mr. Shelby. It was if he understood my pain like it was his own. As if he were trying to protect me from it. The thought was uncomfortable and I knew that I needed to end this moment before it led to more unwelcome thoughts.

"Well thank you for the cigarette and your company, but I really must be returning indoors to finish my shift. Here is your coat, Mr. Shelby." I handed the coat back to him and just as I turned on my heel, his voice stopped me.

"You can call me Tommy, Antonina. I feel that formalities are a bit behind us at this point," he said. I raised my eyebrows at his words, wondering why formalities would ever be behind us at any point.

"Very well, thank you again, Tommy," I said, smiling at him with as much gratitude in my heart that I could muster.

His rare, genuine smiled flashed back at me. I never wanted to turn away.


	5. A Dying Promise: Part Five

Author's Note:

I recommend looking up the song "Dziś do ciebie przyjść nie mogę" on either Youtube or Spotify to listen to the haunting melody of the song that will be sung by Antonina in this chapter.

* * *

Part Five:

During the next few days, I found my thoughts returning to Thomas Shelby. I worked through the haze of my thoughts, silently thanking them as they were a welcome distraction from the grief that usually gripped my soul after outbursts. Following the ban on singing in the pub, Grace had made it her mission to return singing back to The Garrison. I had admired her resolve, but she was beginning to become a real pain in the ass.

One morning I awoke to sound of a desperate conversation taking place outside my window. Looking over my meager supply of food, I decided to quickly get dressed and go to the market before my shift. As I exited the pub that day for the market, I caught Grace in mid conversation with Tommy and his horse, asking him to return singing to the pub and discussing the horse, as well as an upcoming race. I simply nodded at them as I walked past. A troubled expression swept Grace's face. I smiled, knowing that Tommy's eyes followed me as I went on into the distance.

That night, the hours seemed to drag by at the pub. The Garrison passed into the twilight and the heavens opened up. Rain had begun to descend upon Birmingham. Grace and Harry had left me at the pub to close up, as they wanted to rush home. I didn't mind, as my room was a simple walk up the staircase. As I was cleaning the last bits of the bar, a thunderous knock came at the door. Seeing the time, I sighed. I was not in the mood for an argument, turning away another drunk worker. I grabbed my knife out of my garter and I went to the door.

I opened the door, unable to hide my shock at Tommy's appearance. He was soaked to the bone. I knew that I could not turn him away, despite Harry's policies. He noticed the knife in my hand, raising his eyebrows.

"Mr. Shel-Tommy, please come in."

Without looking at me, he walked to the table and took a seat. His troubled expression and silence made me grab a bottle of Irish whiskey and place a glass in front of him. As I went to leave, his caught my wrist softly, telling me that he had come for company. After grabbing a glass of my own, I sat with him, unsure how to proceed. Looking around, I bit my lip. I was not the best company, yet he chose me. Looking for a safe topic, I decided to bring up his horse.

"How is your beautiful horse, Tommy?"

"I just put a bullet in his head."

I nodded, knowing that there was more to this story.

"Was he lame?"

"He looked at me the wrong way. It's not a good idea to look at Tommy Shelby the wrong way."

I took a sip of my whiskey, mulling over his words.

"Remind me to never look at you the wrong way then," I said in hopes that he would smile. I was rewarded with a slight smile from Tommy, though a pain flashed in his eyes at my words.

"You know in France...in France, I got used to seeing men die. I never got used to seeing horses die. They die badly."

For a rare moment, I saw a glimpse into the man that Thomas Shelby was before the war. He loved horses. The man that everyone in this town was afraid of was just that: a man with a gentle heart. His disclosure deserved one of my own.

"As a nurse, I was used to men dying, until the end when-" I did not dare discuss David, "It was only when the armistice seemed near, that men dying cut me to the core."

He simply nodded. We sat in silence. I decided to change the subject.

"So did Grace wear you down about the singing? I really am alright with it, she is driving me quite mad with this love for singing anyways. I will just explain that the song is off limits in my presence. Besides, I do love a good song-"

"Mad you say? Then sing for me."

The air left my lungs, but a smile came to my face at his request. I nodded. He motioned for me to stand on the chair. Feeling the whiskey give me a sudden bravery, I did so.

"What would you like me to sing?"

He thought for a moment. I edged him on with the question: "Happy or sad?"

"Sad."

I smiled. I teased him, telling him to prepare to have his heart broken by my singing. His next words left me sad.

"Already broken."

I thought for a moment and I decided on a Polish song. Although he would not understand the lyrics, I had hoped the emotions could shine through the words.

"Dziś do ciebie przyjść nie mogę,

Zaraz idę w nocy mrok,

Nie wyglądaj za mną oknem,

W mgle utonie próżno wzrok.

Po cóż ci, kochanie, wiedzieć,

Że do lasu idę spać.

Dłużej tu nie mogę siedzieć,

Na mnie czeka leśna brać.

Dłużej tu nie mogę siedzieć,

Na mnie czeka leśna brać.

Księżyc zaszedł hen, za lasem,

We wsi gdzieś szczekają psy,

A nie pomyśl sobie czasem,

Że do innej tęskno mi.

Kiedy wrócę znów do ciebie,

Może w dzień ,a może w noc,

Dobrze będzie nam jak w niebie,

Pocałunków dasz mi moc,

Dobrze będzie jak w niebie,

Pocałunków dasz mi moc.

Gdy nie wrócę, niechaj z wiosną

Rolę moją sieje brat.

Kości moje mchem porosną

I użyźnią ziemi szmat.

W pole wyjdź pewnego ranka,

Na snop żyta dłonie złóż

I ucałuj jak kochanka,

Ja żyć będę w kłosach zbóż.

I ucałuj jak kochanka,

Ja żyć będę w kłosach zbóż."

"I can't come to you today,

I go into the nightly dusk,

Don't watch me through the window,

The sight will be lost in the fog.

For you have to know, my dear,

that I'm going to sleep in the woods.

I can't sit here anymore,

My buddies wait for me in the forest.

I can't sit here anymore,

My buddies wait for me in the forest.

The Moon has set behind the woods,

Dogs are barking somewhere in the village,

Don't think anytime my dear,

That I miss someone else.

When I return to you again,

Maybe in the day, maybe in the night,

It will be good like we are in heaven,

The kisses you will give me, give me strength

It will be good like we are in heaven,

The kisses you will give me, give me strength.

If I don't return, in the springtime

Let my brother to sow my soil.

My bones will be overgrown with moss

enriching the soil.

Go out some morning,

Touch the rye

and kiss it as you kiss a lover,

I will live in the grains.

and kiss it as you kiss a lover,

I will live in the grains."

As I finished the last word, Tommy's eyes had drifted off to somewhere far beyond the walls of The Garrison. His eyes turned to me, with a shimmer of tears in his eyes. Blinking them away, he gruffly asked me what the song had meant. As I stepped off of the chair, I translated the words to him. He nodded, taking his hand and rubbing across his jaw.

"Do you believe in love, Antonina?"

"Yes, I do."

"Would you kiss the rye, as if it were your lost lover?"

I smiled, though I knew it did not reach my eyes.

"Maybe, a rye whiskey. A wise man once told me that those who have been in love drink to forget. Maybe that is why those like you and I drink whiskey."

He simply nodded. He seemed as if he wanted to ask more, but decided against it.

He took the final sip of his whiskey, pouring more into his glass. He went to fill mine and I shook my head.

"Do you have a dress?" I blinked at him, as if he had asked the most absurd question in the world.

"I own many dresses, Tommy."

"Good. I want to take you to the races."

I smiled, feeling alive for the first time since David's death.


	6. A Dying Promise: Part Six

Part Six:

I woke up the next morning in an uncharacteristically good mood. For the first in a long time, I felt strong again. I felt like myself before the war.

It felt as if I were bouncing on air when I walked down the stairs to prepare for the day at The Garrison. Harry had already been there, polishing a pint glass. I smiled at him, giving him one of my rare, genuine smiles. He stopped in his tracks.

"Well good mornin' to ya," Harry said to me, with a strange look of happiness and apprehension. I chuckled, he must have thought that I was going mad.

"Good morning to you too, Harry!"

Harry always looked like he wanted to say more to me, but he chose not to, shaking his head with a smile. I busied myself with the preparations for the day. It dawned on me that Grace was late, but nothing could shake my mood that morning. Not even her.

When Grace entered the pub late for her shift, she seemed shocked by my happiness. We made idle, small talk as the pub slowly began to pick up business. I let my mind trail to thoughts about the upcoming races. As the morning turned into afternoon, I wondered to myself how I should wear my hair, how should I do my makeup, what dress should I wear….

I hadn't been this excited for a social event since I had married David.

The thought made me feel a bit melancholy as I began to polish off a bar glass. I sighed, placing the glass down on the counter. I shook my head, not letting the ghosts of my past appear again.

"Well someone looks happy this afternoon."

I couldn't help, but smile at his greeting. I looked up at him

"Good day to you, Tommy. What can I get for you?"

"A whiskey, love. But I came to see you before a meetin' I had."

My heart skipped a beat, but I reigned in my emotions as soon as they came. Thomas Shelby was never a man to waste time, simply seeing someone for the hell of it.

"Now, I highly doubt that the leader of the Peaky Blinders came by early to see little old me," I teased.

He placed a cigarette between his lips, shrugging, leaving my statement open to interpretation. I raised my eyebrows.

"I wanted to run by to check if ya had pulled out a dress or not. Make sure it is nice. The king will be there," he spoke as he struck a match the light his cigarette.

I bit my lip to repress the urge to roll my eyes. The damn English and their love of aristocracy. As if reading my thoughts, he chuckled.

"Not that king. Billy Kimber will be there."

Billy Kimber….ah yes. I vaguely remembered the day that he had stormed into the pub, ready to shoot Tommy dead. It was during the time that Tommy would only order his drinks from either Grace or Harry. Though Grace had been the only one to serve them, Kimber had watched my every move, as I pretended to busy myself at the counter. His watch had made me uneasy.

Suddenly, it made sense to me why Tommy had asked me to the races.

His change of heart towards me was part of a calculated business move. Kimber had likely put him up to it. I had been too stupefied by my heartbreak about David and the unease caused by Tommy ignoring my presence to notice the intricacies of their business deals. I had been too stupefied by the previous days' events, that I failed to make the connection earlier. Kimber had been in the pub only a day before my episode over the song occurred. My vulnerability that night was the opening window that Tommy needed to groom me to trust him.

He had almost gotten away with it.

My heart fell to my knees, but I didn't let him see me falter. Thinking over my options quickly, I realized that I could either cut all ties with Tommy Shelby or play the game.

He watched me as I processed this information, never appearing to grow tired as the seconds passed. I needed to speak.

I stood up straighter, deciding that two could play this game. What did I have to lose?

"Well if I am to meet a king, _Mr. Shelby_ , I think that a better dress is in order. Maybe some extra shillings for the lady to purchase a nice dress?"

His eyes took on a curious look to them as he processed this information and my return to formalities. He smirked, mistaking it as flirtatious banter.

"Are you attempting to negotiate a business deal with me, _Ms. Casey_?"

I smiled, leaning in closer to him.

"Well, _Mr. Shelby,_ you will see that I can drive a hard bargain. No extra shillings, no races."

He leaned back from me, taking a drag of his cigarette. I watched him, studying his features. A knowing smile played on his face.

"Well Antonina, I guess I can't refuse your offer. Will five pounds and ten shillings work for you?"

I smiled at him, not because of the money. I didn't really need the money.

It was a test.

He had failed.

I had only smiled at him, because my suspicions were confirmed. I was collateral somehow, working for Tommy.

"I think so, Tommy."

I held my hand out to shake it and he stared at it momentarily, raising his eyebrows. Why wasn't he taking my hand? _Oh._

"Oh right, you're Romani, apologies," I said, withdrawing my hand and spitting in it. I offered the hand again. His eyes widened, regarding me with a look of surprise on his face. It took me just a moment to realize that I had slipped up. A simple wartime nurse, turned barmaid would never have known the intricacies of these business practices. I was getting too comfortable with him.

"How did you know that, Antonina?"

I shrugged, not willing to slip up again. I had hoped my indifference would make me look observant, rather than all-knowing in this game. I still held my hand out, waiting for him to take it.

"It is rude to keep a lady waiting, ya know."

He spit into his hand and his large hand swallowed mine as we shook on it. Our hands lingered in the embrace longer than necessary. The sudden opening of the entrance of The Garrison broke our contact, as two men walked to Tommy rather anxiously.

He motioned for them to enter the private room as pleasantries were exchanged.

"Three glasses and a bottle of Irish whiskey, Antonina. Thank you."

I grabbed the glasses and whiskey, placing it upon the counter. He placed the money on the counter, telling me it was for the dress. I thanked him. He nodded to me, suddenly stopping himself.

"Wear red. It will match his handkerchief."

I watched him as he strode into the private room, shutting the door. I was so conflicted, trying to process my emotions rapidly. On one hand, he was a fucking bastard for using me.

On the other hand, what did I expect? I knew this business well enough that I shouldn't have thought that he was genuinely interested in me. I sighed.

I turned back to the counter, placing the money in my dress pocket. I suddenly felt uneasy, as I turned to see Grace studying me rather intently, as if she couldn't figure out what had taken place and why I reacted like I had.

Who was this woman?

"Business deal?" she asked, breaking the silence. I raised my eyebrows, chuckling.

"Of sorts. Thomas asked me to go to the races with him and I thought it was only proper to get a new dress out of him to do so," I said, winking at her. Her troubled expression broke apart the facade of the jovial atmosphere. She seemed to notice my perplexed reaction, composing herself.

"Good lass. You have to swindle as much money as you can from men, aye?" she said, joking with me. I smiled at her, unsure of how to respond to her emotional upswing. She was up to something. As I turned away from her, she interrupted my movement.

"Oh before I forget Antonina, while you were talkin' to Tommy, Harry told me that you could take the rest of the afternoon off before I am off from the night shift. I guess your good mood brought some good will to him and ya," she told me, an uneasy laughter bleeding through the words. I raised my eyebrows. Odd that he didn't tell me directly, but it did sound like Harry. The man knew when I needed to take time off to take care of things.

"Sure, sure. That sounds really nice actually, I have quite a bit of things to do today before the races. I will just be running to the dress shop and a few other places around town. Let me know if you need anything. I will be back by seven or so."

"Will do, Antonina."

* * *

The arrival of Antonina Casey had severely hindered the progress that Grace Burgess would have made with Tommy Shelby and the Peaky Blinders during her assignment. In the first days of her arrival to Birmingham, Grace had caught the eye of the ringleader of the criminal organization. She knew that he was not immune to her beauty.

But then, Antonina had arrived. All of the progress that Grace had made had been lost at the American's arrival.

She couldn't figure out why she had come to The Garrison of all of the places that she could be at following the war. Why didn't she return to America? While the death of a husband was tragic, it made no sense to Grace why Antonina wouldn't have returned to her family to grieve unless they were dead or she was running from something. Grace had felt that it was the latter.

Antonina was no simple wartime nurse, turned barmaid. She had been something in America. The clipped responses to Grace's seemingly innocent questions had raised alarm in Grace's mind.

So, she decided to have Inspector Campbell investigate.

It only took a few days before Campbell had pressed a file into her hand. As Grace read the file, her deepest suspicions had been confirmed. Antonina was not the innocent war widow that she had played herself to be. She had been hiding a dangerous secret.

Keeping Antonina's secret in mind, she knew that her chances were rapidly dwindling on gaining important information on the location of the guns. Antonina Paltrowicz-Casey was a dangerous complication to Grace's mission. It was even more unsettling that Antonina seemed to know who Grace really was. It was only a matter of time before she shared her suspicions with Thomas Shelby. Grace couldn't fail. The time was ticking.

The day that Thomas Shelby had given Antonina the money for the races gave Grace the opportunity that she needed to send Antonina away.

Truth be told, Harry hadn't told Grace that Antonina could have the afternoon off. He had simply told Grace he was off for the day. The timing was perfect to get Antonina away from the pub, so Grace could listen in on Tommy Shelby's meeting with the two IRA members that sat across from him in the private room of The Garrison. She had wanted no complications.

As Antonina had left The Garrison, Grace hovered closely to the window, hoping to gain the information that she needed to report to Campbell.

* * *

Confidential File, Property of The Crown:

Name: Antonina Urszula Paltrowicz-Casey

Nationality: American

Birthdate: November 18, 1896 (Age 22)

Birthplace: Chicago, Illinois, U.S.A.

Husband: David Banan Casey (Deceased)

Affiliations: Confirmed link to the Paltrowicz Enterprise, possible link to the Peaky Blinders

Notes: Antonina Urszula Paltrowicz-Casey (nee Paltrowicz) is the oldest daughter of Piotr and Marina Paltrowicz. Piotr and Marina Paltrowicz are the ringleaders of the criminal organization, the Paltrowicz Enterprise. The organization is notoriously one of the fastest growing, dangerous criminal organizations of Chicago, Illinois, U.S.A. Though the depth of her involvement with the organization is unknown at this time, credible sources have informed the Crown that she is a person of interest in several crimes committed by the organization prior to the war. During the war, Paltrowicz-Casey served in a volunteer nursing unit of the Red Cross in France. Her husband was KIA at the Battle of St. Quentin Canal. She currently resides in Small Heath, Birmingham. She works as a barmaid at The Garrison.


	7. A Dying Promise: Part Seven

Part Seven:

I walked around Small Heath, following the purchase of a red dress and hat from the dressmaker. It had been a perfect match for me, the red dress. Even though I knew that the race day wasn't an actual date with Tommy anymore, I knew that he would still appreciate the dress. Despite the circumstances, I smiled to myself. I loved the color red and I loved wearing it.

Who knows what could happen. Life was full of surprises.

It was a rather beautiful, sunny day in the smog covered town. By the time that I was finished with my primary task of dress shopping, it had only been four o' clock. I had three hours left before I had to relieve Grace. The free time had unnerved me quite a bit.

So, I decided to explore what the town had to offer.

Aside from the market, I had done little research on everything in Small Heath. After a short walk through the streets, I had found my favorite places. There was the picture house, a small bookshop, and a few other hidden gems that I would have to return back to when I had more funds. Even though Harry had given me the option to have days off, I hadn't taken them aside from my first few days in Small Heath. I had wanted to keep busy. The distraction had helped. I found myself growing stronger, though I wasn't sure if it was because feelings had taken hold for Tommy Shelby or if the grief was finally passing.

For the first time in awhile, I felt….free.

Even with my feeling of freedom in mind, I decided to walk into St. Andrews to pay a visit to the Catholic Church to explore the architecture and light a candle for David.

As I crossed myself upon entering, I marveled at the beauty of the cathedral and the emptiness of its halls. Many candles were lit at the altar. I approached them with a new mission in mind. I fumbled with my matches, dropping them, quietly cursing. I suddenly stopped, sheepishly looking around to see if I had been caught for my language. I chuckled, knowing that it had been an old habit of mine to curse in church and my father would immediately chastise me. Oh how I missed you, tato.

I lit the candle, feeling a solemn wave wash over me. I had not stepped foot into a church since the night that I had lost David. Even though I had lost my belief in God during the war, David had never lost his faith.

As I lit the candle, I began to whisper prayers for David in Polish, willing him to be in a better place. I thanked him for watching over me, for keeping me safe when I arrived to the city. I even thanked him for placing him into my life (for whatever reason that may be). As I finished, I crossed myself again before turning to leave.

It was then that I saw the matriarch of the Shelby family sitting in the pews studying me. Something told me that she wasn't here to pray.

I had been no stranger to being watched in the city by others since my arrival. Grace had studied me if I were the good Lord's book on a Sunday morning.

But unlike Grace's uneasy watch, I didn't feel that Polly Shelby held any malice towards me as her gaze followed me.

"Hello dear," she spoke as she motioned for me to sit beside her. I reminded myself not to slouch as I strode to her, sitting beside her.

"Hello Mrs. Shelby," I nodded at her, as our eyes glued to the front of the sanctuary. She chuckled at my greeting.

"I have not heard Mrs. Shelby in ages. It is Polly Gray, but you can just call me Polly, Antonina," she answered, an air of business surrounding her words. She did not want to make idle, formal small talk. I nodded again. We sat in silence, as she calculated her next move. I wonder if he had sent her to confront who I was. A Paltrowicz.

"I wanted to thank you, Antonina. We are in debt to you. You stitched up Arthur the day that the new copper beat half of the life from him. If it wasn't for your help, Thomas' sister Ada and Freddie Thorne would not be together right now. Tommy would have had him thrown into the cut," she said.

Her statements had thrown me off completely. I did what I had done for Arthur, because it was the right thing to do...anyone would have done it. But Ada and Freddie? Now, this was something that I had no idea about. Although I obviously knew who Ada Shelby and Freddie Thorne were, I had no idea how I could be involved.

"I beg your pardon?" I spoke. Polly's eyebrows had raised.

"Don't play coy, love. I am not sure what you said to persuade Tommy, but he changed his mind about killing him after he heard you singin' about dead loves in the pub last night after he had to shoot the horse that the Lee bastards cursed. He is too arrogant or prideful to admit this to you, but I thought you should know that he has taken a likin' to ya. He hasn't looked at anyone the way that he has looked at you since before the war. Although I know why this may be, I can also tell that you're a strong woman and a good match for Tommy."

Her disclosure had knocked me out of sorts. I brooded, conflicted by the information that she had given me.

A good match? For Tommy?

It was a roller coaster of emotions with this man. I went from thinking that he hated me to fancying me to using me out of business necessity. Now, he was soft on me? I sighed. It was plausible that it was a bit of everything.

Tommy was so difficult to figure out.

I sat for a moment, thinking what to say next. A thought popped into my head.

"What was he like before France, Polly?"

Polly sighed, before answering.

"He laughed, a lot. He wanted to work with horses. He won medals. Threw them in the cut."

The look on her face would have made my heart break, if it hadn't already been broken.

"No man returned from the war the same," I said, patting her hand gently.

"And it appears that no woman has either," she said, sympathetically, taking my hand. I smiled at her, as we sat in silence.

I liked this woman already.

"So you're like me, a widow," Polly said, breaking the silence. I nodded.

"I was a nurse during the war. My husband had gone off to the war, drafted, when the Americans had entered the war. He died following St. Quentin Canal. One of the last offenses of the war. I loved him dearly," I told her, even though she likely already knew the story. The woman likely knew everything about me. And yet, she sat here, seeming to enjoy my presence..or at the very least, she didn't want to kill me.

"I knew of David's family. They had grown up here, before immigratin' to America. He was a lovely boy," Polly said. I smiled, happy to know someone besides Harry who remembered him. This was getting easier. The memories were getting easier to deal with.

"That's why I came here. He promised me that Harry would take care of me. I….couldn't return home. My family didn't forgive what I had done, volunteering as a nurse and leaving them behind," I explained, careful not to explain who I really was. Polly nodded again, moving her mouth into a grimace.

I felt my heart catch in my throat: she knew.

"I know that you're more than just a barmaid and nurse, love. Any woman who answers the door with a knife, isn't a simple minded lady. You didn't return home after the war. You were someone in America. Someone you want to forget."

So there it was. All of the cards were on the table and I had lost this poker hand by a mile. She continued, breaking my thoughts apart.

"But you turned your back on it for love. True love. You wanted better. And I admire you for it."

It was weird how I just nodded, as if the information that Polly had told me was as simple as it would rain in the afternoon. I wanted to be scared. If I had any sense, I would have run from this city. But I didn't. I was tired of running. And I trusted Polly. If she wanted me dead, she could have cut me where I sat.

"Does he know?"

"I haven't told him my suspicions, if that's what you are really askin' me. But he will find out soon enough. You must know that. I know that you're not here to cause trouble. I have a gypsy heart and we know these things. You care about him, in some way. Tommy will do the right thing with you. He usually does. Just give it some time, love," she said, as we stared ahead. It was only a matter of time before everyone would know that a Paltrowicz was in Small Heath.

"Anonymity never suited me, anyways….." I took a breath to fill my body with false confidence. I had to be honest.

"My real name is Antonina Urszula Paltrowicz-Casey. My family essentially runs Chicago, as your family runs Birmingham. I do not have any interest in reconciling business or personal ties with my family. I am dead to them, because I married an Irish man and I left to do better with my life, saving lives rather than taking them. Do with that information what you will, but please let me be the one to tell him, Polly," I said, pleading. She didn't say a word at first, nodding.

"Your confession is between me, you, and the good Lord," she said, giving me her word. I knew that her word and honor meant everything to her, as it had to me. I visibly relaxed. She reminded me of my mother in her good moments, fierce and loyal.

"When should I tell him, Pol?"

"Tell him after the races. Be truthful with him. He is soft on you. But I must tell you, if you intentionally hurt him or our family, I'll cut you and throw you into the cut myself," she warned. I had no doubt that she would do so if I had ever betrayed him. But I had no intention of that. I didn't know what he meant to me or what would happen between us, but I would never turn my back on him.

"Pol, I'll cut myself and throw myself into the river if I ever hurt you all. I really owe Tom-your family for how much you've done for me in my short time here. Really, it is a blessin' to know you." I squeezed her hand, chuckling.

She nodded, smiling at my words. Sensing that the conversation was coming to a close, I stood up.

"I should be off. I have to return to The Garrison before Grace needs to be off."

A troubled expression crossed her face at my mention of Grace. I hesitated.

"I don't trust her, Pol," I said, hoping that I wouldn't be crossing a line. I had nothing to gain by telling her my suspicion of Grace. But she simply nodded, as if she knew it herself.

"Come see me if you ever want to talk or need a drink, Antonina. Watery lane. You'll know the house soon enough," she said, a secret smile playing on her lips.

"Thanks, Pol. Really. For everything." I had hoped that she knew how much it meant to me that she burdened herself with my secret.

I bid her good day, my mind swimming with thoughts as I stumbled out of the church towards The Garrison.

Along the way, I had run into a troubled Arthur Shelby heading towards the direction that I had come in. What was it about this family, always finding me when I least expected it?

"Hello, Arthur," I said, slightly scaring him out of the drunken state that he was in.

"Oh aye there, Toni," he said, his sad eyes ripping apart my soul. He stopped, looking down at his whiskey before glancing up at me. "I mean, Antonina. Apologies, love."

"You can call me Toni, Arthur. Only my favorite people get to," I said, trying to cheer him up. He smiled, before faltering.

"I am scared," he whispered. I tensed, the blood draining from my veins. What scared other men and what scared gangsters were two drastically, different things. I looked around, but we appeared to be the only ones of the street.

"Is someone after you? Do you need help? I have my knife."

He chuckled, as if to wave my worries away with his hands.

"No, no, nothin' of the sort. I just don't know what is going on anymore. What's reality and what isn't," he said, taking a swig from his whiskey. He was broken and he reminded me...of me.

"I understand."

He raised his eyebrows in doubt, swaying. He was drunker than I had ever seen him and that was saying something. With his temper and the ghosts clouding his vision, I feared that he was going to kill a man in a fit. I had to diffuse the situation. I motioned for him to sit with me. Thankfully, he followed me as we found the step of someone's home. I knew that the owners wouldn't have dared ask us to leave if they knew a Shelby was sitting upon it. We were safe for the moment. From the present.

"No, really. After my husband died, I didn't know if what had happened was reality or if it was some cruel nightmare. I was a nurse during the war. He had died before my own eyes," I took a deep breath, willing myself to continue. "Sometimes, the nightmares find me, even now. I will wake up, waiting for death to find me. I do the breathing exercises that the nurses taught me. Four seconds of breath through my nose and four seconds of breath through my mouth. I count over the facts: my name is Antonina Casey. I am twenty two years old. I live in Small Heath. I am not a nurse on the frontlines. I am safe."

He thought for a moment, suddenly standing up.

"I am Arthur fuckin' SHELBY!"

I giggled.

"Exactly. See, you're already acin' it, Arthur."

He helped me up, an accomplishment for someone who had drank most of his weight in whiskey.

"You're a fuckin' angel, love. It is too bad that Tommy has already forbid us from ya or I'd go to St. Andrews and marry ya meself right now," he chuckled, a sad expression flashing over his face.

I froze, trying to process this information. God damn, this was too much for me today. I shook my head, smiling. He was probably just speaking drunk words, trying to flatter me.

"Well, maybe it will do ya some good to sober up in the good Lord's home, anyways." I said, starting to walk towards The Garrison. He cleared his throat, making me stop dead in my tracks. I turned to face him.

"Toni...thank ya again for stitchin' me up that day and for today. I am glad ya found your way to Small Heath," he said to me, softly.

"You're welcome, Arthur. If you ever need a cup of tea, not whiskey," he chuckled, "you know where to find me. I have to go-I am gonna be late to my shift and Grace may throw me in an ale barrel," I teased, waving goodbye at him. He chuckled, stumbling away towards the church.

As I walked closer to The Garrison, _his_ gaze stopped me in my tracks. His trademark cigarette tipped off his lips, as a trace of agitation marred his beautiful face.

"Can I ask what business with my brother ya just had, Antonina?"

His tone was tense, almost accusatory. Maybe, there was a truth to Arthur and Polly's words. His behavior had confused and beguiled me, as always.

"Certainly, you can ask why Tommy, though I am unsure what this has to do with you, exactly."

"Everything in Small Heath is my business, Antonina."

The cool tone of his voice was meant as a warning to mind my present actions, but my mind immediately went to the past. Trying not to let it get the best of me, I let my face soften.

"I had stopped your brother when he was rather intoxicated, because he seemed rather...troubled. Truth be told Tommy, I am worried that he is going to hurt himself or someone else in a fit. I think it may do him some good for you to go talk to him. I tried to teach him the breathing exercises that they had taught us durin' the war, but I think he was more concerned with the whiskey. I sent him to St. Andrews," I said, sighing.

"Ah yes, the good nurse prescribin' the good Lord to the broken soldiers," he said, dragging a hit off his cigarette. I snorted, straightening at his words.

"Tommy, as far as I am concerned, God is dead and he died on the fields of Flanders."

I saw the jolt in his body, at the harsh use of my words. I sighed, knowing that I needed to reign in my mood. Sensing that I needed to say what I needed to say fast to bring him back to the moment, I explained what had taken place.

"Tommy, I sent him there because I thought it was a good, quiet place to sober up and process whatever it is that is eatin' him alive."

He nodded, returning to his business like demeanor. The irritation at whatever petty transgression that I committed had melted away.

"Thank you for your help, Antonina."

He strode away from me, towards St. Andrews.

* * *

"Tommy, as far as I am concerned, God is dead and he died on the fields of Flanders."

It was not the harsh reality of her words that had jolted Tommy from the moment in which he stood. It was the fact that his thoughts had made an appearance on the lips of Antonina Casey.

He murmured words of appreciation, as he left her to go into The Garrison for her shift. As he walked to find his brother, he let his thoughts trace back to her.

Throughout her weeks in Small Heath, she had captivated his very mind and soul.

He had made careful moves to stay away from her during a time that she so very much needed to confront whatever it was that brought her here to Small Heath. He had seen the past haunting her every movement and words as she served the patrons of Small Heath.

She worked every single day for Harry. An action that told him that she was trying to busy herself to forget.

Like he had done when he went to war after Greta's death.

The invitation to the races was the perfect opportunity for him to spend more time with her. It only helped that Billy Kimber had requested her presence. Tommy Shelby was business minded, but his actions were more motivated by the need to have more private moments with her. He would take it slow, building up to a point of trust before he had asked her. He didn't want to push her too soon. But time was running out.

The night that she ran out of The Garrison, she had almost knocked him over where he stood. It only seemed natural that he had followed her out. She was curled into a ball during the cold night when he had found her and he couldn't understand why it had bothered him so much. When his presence seemed to bring her back, he felt tied to this woman.

When he had put down the horse cursed by the Lees, it only seemed natural that he made his way to her in his moment of turmoil.

When she sang to him, he felt as if he could see the window into her past life. He didn't know the specifics yet, but he knew that it was not an easy life that Antonina Casey had lived. The tears that blurred his vision wasn't over the current situation with the Lees, the horse's death, Ada and Freddie's situation, or the impending storm that brewed over him with the Inspector's presence. They had been for her.

He wanted to know who the woman that dominated his thoughts truly was. He knew that she was a war widow, an American, someone running from her past. She had ties to Birmingham through her late husband, David Casey. He sensed that trouble had followed her, but what specifically, he hadn't yet figured out.

The exchanges that they had earlier in the day had further puzzled him. Flirtatious banter had led way to an unsettling discovery. He knew that Antonina was more acquainted with his profession than she let on. After asking around for David Casey's background, it became clear to him that he was not the tie to her past life that he needed to pursue.

It was Antonina herself.

As he walked through the doors of St. Andrews, he realized that he would have to gain access closer to her to find the information that he needed. He needed the information fast, before he let her into his world at the races.

The key was The Garrison.


	8. A Dying Promise: Part Eight

Author's Note:

I know that these previous chapters have been more about character development than anything. This will be the last chapter for character development before things start to really progress for Antonina and Tommy as a pair. The races are near and things will begin to really heat up for the two in the following chapters. I wanted to set all of the necessary groundwork before everything takes off. Thank you for your patience, as it has been a sincere pleasure to write this story. xx A

* * *

Part Eight:

Following Grace's departure, the night had been rather pleasant, albeit strange at The Garrison. I sighed, knowing that strange did not begin to even cover the day that I had.

Early on, I was doing rather well with tips, though a nagging suspicion had told me that it had more to do with my involvement with the Shelbys than my wonderful barmaid services. The men had grown rather businesslike with me suddenly, using my surname when they addressed me rather than "love," "Antonina" or "oh barmaid!"

I heard a thundering of feet coming crashing into The Garrison, as I had returned to the counter from talking with one of the men from the BSA factories about the new coppers in town. I had only half listened to the man as he droned on about some shipment of guns stolen from The Crown.

"Have you seen Freddie Thorne?"

I hadn't looked up to know who the voice had belonged to. It had to be Ada Shelby.

"No, love." I turned my gaze to meet the eyes of a panicked, young woman. Grasping her stomach, she frantically interrogated me again.

"Have you seen Tommy? AH!" she doubled over, in pain. "I have to find Freddie!"

I grabbed her a glass of water, rushing to her. All of the men scattered away from Ada and I, as I helped her sit down in the backroom.

"No no no, I have to find them. I think they are going to kill each other."

"Ada, you have to calm your nerves. You can't be getting upset in this condition," I said, kneeling to her. "Who is going to kill who?"

"I don't know, that is the problem," her face crumpled, as she shoved her hands into her eyes.

For as much as I cried, I was never good at comforting others when they were crying. I never knew what they wanted me to do. But I knew that I could not do nothing as she broke apart in front of me.

I hugged Ada, as she wept. I sat stroking her hair, trying to tell her that they both loved her and they wouldn't end up killing the other over whatever bullshit business that they had with one another. She began to relax in my arms, as if she realized where she was and who she was talking to.

"You're Antonina," she said, smiling at me.

"I am afraid that I am," I said, chuckling.

"I have been meaning to thank you...you got through to Tommy," she said, finally drinking the water that I had given to her.

"I will be honest with you, Ada. I don't know what the hell I did to help, but I am happy to keep doing whatever it is that I am doing for you," I said, taking her hand reassuringly.

"You're not afraid of him," she said, studying me. I laughed.

"God, no. Tommy Shelby?" I laughed, the first genuine laugh that I had in ages. While it wasn't true, I would never tell Ada Shelby my troubles, especially right now.

"We got married. I am pregnant. That is why Tommy is so mad," she said, explaining the situation. She had rightfully guessed that I did not know most of the story.

"Well, congratulations, Mrs. Thorne," I said, smiling at her.

"I can tell that we are going to be friends, Antonina."

"I hope so, Ada. I could use a friend. The closest thing to the resemblance of a friend that I have is Grace Burgess….and she hates me."

Ada and I laughed so hard. God, it felt good to laugh again.

I heard a cough, before we both turned our attention to Grace Burgess standing in the doorway. I straightened, staring down Grace where she stood. Ada noticed the change in my demeanor and she mirrored my apprehension at the sight of Grace.

"I had come by for a pint on my night off since nowhere else would serve an unaccompanied lady, but no one was here to serve me," she began, admonishing me until she saw Ada sitting beside me. Ada's eyes had narrowed. "I apologize Ms. Shelby, for the interruption," Grace mused, as an afterthought.

"It is Mrs. Thorne, now. I will be there in a moment, Grace," I said, smiling coolly at her. Sensing my anger, Grace seemed to scurry away.

I rolled my eyes, then burst into giggles with Ada.

It had been nice to find a friend, even if it was with Tommy Shelby's sister.

* * *

Grace had only returned to the pub, because she saw Ada Shelby running into it in hysterics. She hid in the shadows as Antonina pulled her into the backroom, comforting her.

As she listened to their conversation taking place, she knew that Freddie Thorne had not left the city as promised by Thomas Shelby. Thorne's marriage to Ada Shelby had only added the fuel that Inspector Campbell had needed to light a fire under Thomas Shelby's ass.

The comment about Grace hating Antonina had actually wounded her a bit. While Grace didn't necessarily like Antonina for hindering her investigation, she would have thought they could have been friends in another setting.

As Grace gathered the information that she needed, she knew that she needed to find a way to get past Antonina to Tommy Shelby. She knew how to do it, too.

The next morning, Grace and Antonina had started their shift at The Garrison in silence. Antonina knew that Grace had likely heard her comment about her, with her clipped responses when the two barmaids were forced to speak to one another. Antonina could have guessed it from the tension that was rolling off of Grace's body alone. Antonina sighed. She knew that she had to play nice to make work more tolerable.

"Grace, I know that you heard the comment that I made about you to Ada. I wanted to apologize to you. Truth be told, I do think that you hold some type of animosity to me, but it was unfair for me to bring it up at your expense without your ability to defend yourself. It was feckless," Antonina said to Grace.

She nodded, thinking it over before a smile came to her face. The truth was, Grace was testing Antonina to see if she was perceptive to her demeanor. While Grace had been a little wounded by Antonina's comment, she realized it was an opportunity to get what she needed. Grace let her shoulders relax, as she brought false tears to her eyes. It had worked.

"Apologies as well, Antonina. Truth be told, I have been rather unfair to ya. Ya see, I fancy Tommy. When I heard that you were his lady, it made me...jealous. For the first time in awhile. I just felt alive in his presence...since my loss," Grace said, looking to the ground. She knew that she had to play to Antonina's weaknesses, but there was actual truth to what she was saying. Grace had become infatuated with the ringleader of the criminal organization, though she didn't dare admit it to anyone.

Antonina sighed.

"I understand Grace. I am sorry about that," she said, briefly shocked by Grace's confession. Her eyes softened and she took Grace's hand in hers. Grace was shocked by Antonina's compassion, almost wavering. Grace closed her eyes, remembering the goal of this weepy facade.

"I was wondering if you would let me bring Tommy his whiskey this morning. I wanted to make my amends and send wishes to him as well," Grace requested, smiling sadly at the counter.

"Sure, Grace," Antonina said, smiling at her.

* * *

I knew what Grace was doing, the moment that she had feigned false tears to go talk to Tommy. For a moment, I had really thought that Grace and I were coming to a true understanding. Grace Burgess was not the master manipulator that she believed herself to be. While I hadn't doubted for a moment that there was some truth to her words, I knew that she had some underlying agenda to speak with him. So, I let her bring it to him after he had arrived at The Garrison, asking for me to bring him a whiskey through the window to the private room. As he closed it, I nodded to her. This would be interesting.

As Grace had entered the private room closing the door behind her, I stood by the window, listening into their conversation. Grace hadn't accounted for this.

"Hello, Tommy," she said, with an air of seduction to her voice. I wanted to laugh.

"Grace, what a surprise. I thought that you would be Antonina. Is she alright?"

Though I couldn't see her expression, I knew that had to annoy her. I grinned.

"She was busy with some business from Harry. I thought I would bring this to you, so I don't keep the most important man in Small Heath waiting."

"That is rather interesting, because I had just bought the pub from Harry the night before. She should be doing business with Arthur from now on. Are you sure that was it, Grace?"

I jolted from the window, momentarily shocked by his words. Harry didn't own the pub anymore? I frowned, momentarily panicked at the security of my job and residence. As if remembering my purpose, I moved closer to the window, missing whatever lie that she had come up with.

"Your sister was here last night. She was worried. You and Freddie. It made her sick. She's alright, but in her condition, she needs peace. Women talk."

"That is something they do."

I snorted, cursing myself as they paused their conversation. Fuck, I had really grown stale in my eavesdropping skills. My mother would be disappointed.

"She talked about you...I bet you keep everything locked up."

"Well, that's what men do."

I heard the heels of her boots, clicking on the floor. Likely she was moving closer to him.

"Your sister's nice...I like her. She is much nicer than the usual company that I keep with women...It can't be easy for her. Her brother and her husband, fighting over the same thing. Men should talk too."

I rolled my eyes. She had been taking a dig at me, of course.

"To you?"

I smiled at the irritation in his words.

"Why not? I'm a barmaid. It's my job. Men always tell their troubles to a barmaid….what is it you and Freddie are fighting over? You can tell me..."

I heard his newspaper hit the table. I could imagine his exasperation.

"On second thought, I would love to talk to a barmaid, Grace. Please send Antonina in."

I ran from the window, busying myself with a pint glass.

Grace strode out of the room, a moment later. Her face was red, as she told me that _Mr. Shelby_ had requested my presence. The way that she slammed the pint glass down that I had held momentarily, told me everything that I needed to know about how she felt about the situation.

I entered the room, as Thomas motioned for me to shut the door. I looked to the window, a secret smile playing on my face. Tommy threw his paper down for a second time, walking to the window silently.

He opened the window, scaring Grace half to death.

"Grace, will you please go count the cigarettes in the backroom for me?"

I could hear her boots stomping with purpose as she left the space. I chuckled as he sat down, closing his eyes in irritation.

"Tommy, you can't fault her...she fancies you. She thinks that I have come in to steal her love away," I said, teasing him. A smile played on his lips at the choice of my words.

"Well, are you?"

I shrugged, trying to play indifference. The blush that colored my cheeks gave me away.

"Ah, the sexual innuendos of an injured man doesn't faze you, but the accusation of stealing men like me is the scandal of the century for Ms. Casey," he joked. I laughed and he seemed to relax at my joy.

"Have you bought a dress?" he asked, returning to business nearly immediately.

"Yes, I have."

"How does it look?"

I smiled, my eyes giving away my joy about the dress. He nodded, understanding.

"I will pick you up at nine tomorrow morning."

I nodded. I rose, opening the door to the private room.

As I caught the sight of Grace, I couldn't help myself.

"Then it is a date, Tommy," I said, winking at him. He laughed, shaking his head at my mischief.


	9. A Dying Promise: Part Nine

Part Nine:

I could barely sleep the night before the races. Following my shift at The Garrison, I had nervously paced my room in circles. I made myself sick with the motions. Although the memories of the past had been at bay, I couldn't help but feel guilty at my excitement that I felt.

Would David have been happy at this? Is this what living was like after so much death and carnage? Was I ever this excited before my meetings with David?

I finally came to the conclusion after the seventieth time around my room, that the answer was yes to all of these questions.

I wondered if David had known the Shelbys before he departed the city. I let myself wonder if Tommy and David would have been mates.

At half past one, I drank two glasses of whiskey to calm my nerves. I needed to sleep. My subconscious gave me a reprieve from the nightmares, for once.

As dawn broke, I made myself rise to prepare for the day ahead. I had to make this perfect.

I had powdered my face, taking careful attention to hide the dark circles underneath my eyes. I slowly and carefully placed the red rouge on my lips. I pinched my cheeks to bring color to them, to match my dress and accompanying hat. I sighed, a total stranger looking back at me in the small mirror. This would have to do.

At five to nine, I was outside of The Garrison, chain smoking my fifth cigarette of the morning.

Thomas Shelby arrived punctually.

"Good day to you, Antonina," he said to me, as he opened the passenger door to his car. I grinned, as I saw that we would have the entire ride to and from to ourselves.

As he began the drive to Cheltenham, we sat in a comfortable silence. I thought about conversation starters, imagining how certain topics would go.

Family? "Oh yeah, they run Chicago and I am as good as dead to them! They cut me to really send the message across!"

Husband? "Oh yeah, he died before my eyes at St. Quentin Canal! I am a twenty two year old widow!"

Occupation? "I was a nurse, but after falling to bits, I can't go back to a hospital! Now, I work as a barmaid at your brother's pub!"

Thinking about the previous day's conversations, I decided to talk about The Garrison. It was as safe as anything else that I could find to talk about.

"So Grace told me that Arthur owns the pub now." I looked to Tommy, as he nodded.

"Aye, he does. After speaking with him the day before yesterday, I saw it best that he found himself a new hobby. You were right about him. He was fallin' to pieces before me," he said.

"Does that mean that I still have a job, Tommy? Do I need to start paying you all rent now?"

My logistical questions surprised Tommy, as if he hadn't considered an alternative. As if my dismissal from the pub was even a possibility to him.

"As long as you don't send Grace in, after I asked for you to bring me a whiskey, you can stay as a barmaid," he said.

I laughed. He seemed pleased to hear my laughter, as he smiled, staring at the road ahead.

"I guess that I am a valued employee of the Peaky Blinders, now," I said, grinning at him. He continued to smile, not giving anything away. I liked this joyful Tommy. I knew that it was rare, given my conversation with Polly just days before.

"They seem to be rather partial to you, you know," Tommy said, as he lit a cigarette to smoke while driving.

"Who?"

"My family. Arthur, Polly, and Ada can't stop talking about you to everyone," he said, irritation showing at Arthur's name.

I rolled my eyes.

"I paid them off," I said, lighting a cigarette for myself. His smile returned.

It was then that I saw the race tracks. We were at Cheltenham.

* * *

As we entered the betting dens, I found myself wondering why we were here.

"Will we get to lay a bet?" I asked, as he led me down the hallways of the building.

"No-gambling is for mugs. This way. You're lucky you're with me or you'd be wasting your money on-"

"Fixed races, yeah yeah. I always wondered, how do you fix a race?"

He stopped momentarily, feeling unease that I knew about the nature of the races. I sighed, silently kicking myself for getting too comfortable with him. I should have told him before the races about my past life. I was tired of tip toeing around it.

"How should I know?" he said, not really looking for an answer. As we walked to the stairs in silence, we stopped and he turned to me.

"Since you're technically a valued employee of the Peaky Blinders, I need you to do a job for me. You do the talking. Tell the security that you are Lady…."

So there it was. The real reason that he had taken me to the races. I didn't skip a beat, as he struggled to think of an aristocratic name for me.

"Lady Jadwiga Jagiellońska of Kraków."

Nevermind that this was not the medieval period.

"Right. Lady Jadwiga Jagiellońska of Kraków. You got lost when you went to look for the boy riding your horse, Dandy Flower."

"What a stupid name for a horse," I said. He looked at me, willing me to be quiet. I rolled my eyes, but nodded.

"If they ask about me, say that I am Polish and I don't speak a word of English."

"Fine, but if I speak to you in Polish, just nod your head."

He chuckled. I hesitated as he began to head up the stairs. He held his hand out to me.

"Come on, posh girl, earn your wages."

I never backed down from a challenge.

As I masked my American accent with a Polish one, I had briefly admonished Tommy in Polish for wasting my time, in front of security. It felt good, as I really was telling him off for wasting my time at the races. The security was so astonished by my rapid fire, angry Polish, he let us through, looking to Tommy with a glint of sympathy in his eye.

As we entered the beautiful, large room, Tommy congratulated me on a job well done.

"Something tells me that you were really letting me have it back there. You'll have to translate it later for me," he said, a playful glint in his expression.

"Not a chance, Shelby," I smiled, as I watched the attendees dancing across the floor.

"Do you dance?" his question startled me.

"If I am asked properly."

"Lady Jadwiga Jagiellońska of Kraków, will you dance with me?"

"With pleasure, Sir Thomas Shelby."

He grinned, as he held my hand in his leading me down the stairs.

As we danced across the floor, I let my anger go about the antics that Tommy had pulled getting us into the place. If this was the job that he needed all along, I could live with it.

"There's the king," Tommy mused, as I spotted Kimber sitting across the way. Kimber caught my eye, a look of desire sweeping his face. I turned my face away to bite down the bile that rose in my throat. Tommy seemed not to notice, as he began to lead me across the dance floor. Although I was not used to English dancing, I realized that we were drastically off center as he began to lead me towards the right side of the room.

"Either your left leg is stronger than your right or we're making a getaway."

"Neither," he said, determined to find the exit. My brows raised.

"I hope this doesn't involve razor blades or knives," I joked with him. I brought my knife last minute, hidden in the red garter on my right thigh. His eyebrows raised at my mention of the knife, but he said nothing.

"I've decided to move up in the world, become a legitimate businessman."

I scoffed, but then realized he was serious.

"Christ alive, you're serious."

"I am always serious, Antonina."

I turned to my right and saw Arthur make an appearance at the exit with bags full of money. His face gave way to surprise at my presence, as Tommy and I let go of our embrace, dancing.

"Well hello, Toni. Welcome to the Peaky Blinders. Nice dress, you can wear that to my pub," Arthur said, smiling. Tommy started to correct Arthur, but I stopped him.

"Toni is fine with me now, Tommy," I told him, smiling. Tommy gave me a strange look, before taking the money from Arthur. He asked if anyone was hurt and I was happy to hear that it was just cuts and bruises as collateral. Seeing Arthur's cheek, I looked at him with a mock sense of authority.

"Clean your cheek up when you get a chance, Arthur. Infections are quite nasty," I said, suddenly shivering at the memory of David's infection.

"Aye, don't worry 'bout me, none, love." He coughed suddenly. "Tommy," he nodded, seeing Tommy's change in mood. Arthur left as quickly as he entered.

"Come now, Lady Jadwiga," he ordered, the cool demeanor returning to him. I sighed, following him.

Business had just begun.

We strode to Kimber's table, Tommy placed the money down with a sense of authority. The cool, distant, and collected businessman that Tommy was known for made his appearance before me. It was strange to see him in action. As the men began their proceedings, he asked me to fetch us some drinks. He slid a few pounds towards me, as he turned his attention back to Kimber's table. I was being dismissed, politely. How weird it was to be on the receiving end of a dismissal. In Chicago, I had always been at the table. I shook my head, reminding myself that it was no longer my life.

As I drank the champagne, Billy Kimber's appearance had shocked me from my senses. He asked me for a dance. I briefly looked over at Tommy and he nodded, though he didn't take his eyes off of me as Kimber danced with me, making conversation at the same time. I felt the alarms ring in my head, but I shook them off.

A dance was innocent enough.

Following the dance, Tommy had resumed his spot next to me. I asked him how the business deal was going. He said that they were making in progress, but he needed to throw a small condition into the mix. The hairs stood on the back of my neck.

"So listen, we're going to go for dinner at Kimber's house. He has a place a couple miles away. I have some business to settle first with his accountant, so you go on ahead, with Kimber."

"Just me and him?"

"Yeah until I'm done here."

I turned to him, suddenly angry. I said nothing.

"Is that alright? I'll throw in six extra quid for your extra time today."

My time...I did not give a fuck about my time.

"You think I'm a whore?"

He stopped, considering my question.

"Everybody's a whore, _Toni_. We just sell different parts of ourselves. You said that you were a valued employee of the Peaky Blinders. To do that, you have to sharpen up. The deal is I give him two hours with you. He thinks he's a ladies' man. He thinks that he can seduce you. Whenever you want, just kick him in the balls."

The crushing reality of the situation cut me to the quick.

"I am a clause in a contract."

He sighed, wanting to dismiss my assertion. But he knew that he couldn't.

I saw him for what he was.

"If you want to be part of my organization, you have to make sacrifices. You are no stranger to this business, Antonina."

The air was sucked from my lungs in that moment. He knew. How he knew, I didn't know. Polly would not have gone back on her word.

I considered his words. He could have been bluffing. I decided not to push my luck. Resigned, I accepted his proposal. Two hours. What could happen in two hours?

"I don't know what business you think that I know as a barmaid, but if it's the business of men you speak of, _I know how the likes of you are_. I will do it. But I will not fuck him." I said, gritting my teeth.

He nodded, returning to Kimber.

As we left the races, my heart sank. I knew that trouble lay ahead for me. I had only hoped that I could make it the two hours without it finding me.

* * *

As we arrived at Mr. Kimber's home, he took me to his parlor. It was grandoise, too much for my taste.

This was all too much for my taste.

He poured me a whiskey, putting on some slow music for the two of us.

"You showed me up back there at the races. Why don't you teach me how to dance properly?"

I simply nodded, my voice lost.

His hand had touched the places of my scarring and I grimaced. His body was too close to mine, as he tried to caress my cheek.

"The music is too slow. Put on a Charleston."

"Then we'd be far away, I want to dance like this. Come on... you weren't so stiff back there, were you? You ever been in a house this big? Hmmm? Look at you. You look like a bloody film star. So beautiful…." his touch began to make me sick, when he suddenly placed his lips upon mine.

I pushed him away, breathing. I smiled, sheepishly, thinking my way out of this. In the past, my name had protected me in these situations.

Antonina Casey was a no one in England.

"I want a cigarette, Mr. Kimber," I said. He nodded, moving to pour himself more whiskey. As I fumbled with my cigarettes, I heard the crash.

"Oh dear, look, I dropped something. Pick it up," his icy cold voice sent chills through my spine.

"Pick it up yourself, Mr. Kimber."

I wasn't prepared for the quick movement of Mr. Kimber coming at me, twisting my arms to lock me in. I was trapped.

"You're a fucking barmaid. If I drop a glass on the floor, you pick it up. I want to watch you pick it up."

I narrowed my eyes, looking at him. I was no fucking barmaid.

"Right, you little slag. I have tried to be nice. If I dropped a glass on the floor, you bend over and fucking pick up the fucking glass, okay?"

He pushed me into the billiards table, flipped me around on my stomach. I could feel the flashbacks coming over me, of my cousin bending me over, his accomplices holding me down to carve the knives into my back. I wanted to scream, as I tried to grab the knife hidden in my garter.

I was going to have to kill Billy Kimber.

This was it.

As soon as Kimber had started reaching up my dress, a commotion occurred to my right. The absence of his body registered before Tommy's voice had filled the room.

"Just listen to me. I was going to let you go through with it, but in the end, my conscience got the better of me...she looks good on the outside. But she has the clap. Syphilis. When you took a shine to her, I thought I'd use her. Somebody told me she had syph and I thought, 'What the hell?' Call it my better nature. She's a whore."

What a fucking riot. I was a whore. Hilarious.

My thoughts drowned out whatever pathetic conversation that was taking place.

When Tommy told me to go wait in the car, I yelled "Kurwa!" at him, storming off. If I had known where I was, I would have walked home. So, I sat, chain smoking until he arrived.

He got into the car, sitting beside me.

We drove in silence, before he asked me what the Polish word had meant.

"I called you something like a whore." I said, staring straight ahead. He said nothing. I smirked, letting my anger wash over me.

"It's pretty funny Tommy. At the start of the day, I was Lady Jadwiga Jagiellońska of Kraków and by the end, I was a whore with the clap. You're a fucking bastard for offering me like that."

He said nothing, though I knew the words had gotten to him as he lit a cigarette.

"But then you changed your mind. Why did you change your mind? Did you suddenly grow a heart? Or was it my namesake that made you stop?"

He refused to answer me, which I was silently relieved about.

I knew that he had me all figured out.

Good. Fuck him.

I hated Thomas Shelby in that moment.

* * *

When Kimber had offered his wife to him, he knew that Kimber's intentions were less than honorable with Antonina. He had told himself that she could take care of herself. Just the evening before, he had learned the identity of who Antonina really was. Antonina Paltrowicz had killed men in Chicago before. He knew about her notorious schemes that helped earn her family the rule of Chicago.

Yet, the worry for Antonina only grew as the minutes ticked by during the first hour that Kimber had Antonina. Kimber's wife wasn't helping it.

"I bet he said you could have me, didn't her? While he has her. That's the arrangement, isn't it? Yours might be a prostitute, but I'm not."

Tommy scoffed. Antonina had made it clear that she was no whore.

"I was a milliner when I met him. I was independent. I made this hat. I was a good milliner."

Her words had given way to worry for Antonina, more and more as she prattled on. Sensing her discomfort, he answered.

"It's a very pretty hat."

"It really is."

This was a mistake. This was a huge mistake and Antonina was going to take the brunt of it all. For him.

"So is she a prostitute?"

He found himself sighing.

"God's honest truth? I don't know what she is."

It was true. Tommy didn't know what Antonina was. She was a former gangster, nurse, widow, and barmaid. She had known more about his business than he could ever have imagined. She was as dangerous as he was.

She was also the most beautiful woman that he had ever laid eyes upon. She set a fire in his soul, in places that he thought had been burned out hollow since the war.

As he started the engine to his car, he had hoped to find whatever she had left in tact when he came to interrupt whatever it was that Kimber had planned for.

He heard the shouting, as he raced through the home of Billy Kimber. As he entered the parlor, his heart sank. Antonina was trapped under Kimber on the billiards tables. He could see the scarring on her back, as Kimber rushed up to protest Tommy's arrival. He could see Antonina willing herself to return to the present, her hands searching for the knife he knew that she had in her garter. She was shaking. Whatever Kimber had done, had pushed Antonina to confront her past.

He tripped over his words as to why he had interrupted the time that they had. When he came up with the perfect lie, he saw the anger and betrayal flash across her face.

Before she even translated what she had said to him in the car, he knew what she called him.

He had never seen the fire and contempt in her before, as she lashed out at him on the drive home.

He was filled with shame and regret, but Thomas Shelby was never a man to apologize for business.

As Antonina lay the bait for the fight she had surely wanted, he wouldn't take it.

She knew that he knew about her past. It was only a matter of time before the ghosts of their past would consume them.


	10. A Dying Promise: Part Ten

Part Ten:

Following the races, I did not want to talk to Tommy ever again. Despite knowing what may transpire, I never dreamed that he would leave me for two hours with that man. The events of the previous days had dulled my intuition to danger. I was nearly assaulted by Billy Kimber. In a short span of time, I had went from Lady Jadwiga of Kraków to a whore with the clap. I knew that he had said what he had to protect me, but it was too late. I was so angry. The nightmares returned and my sullen, cold exterior had made a lasting appearance.

My nasty attitude only furthered in the coming days, as I realized it was near impossible to avoid him. He had made it his mission to engage me in conversation at The Garrison, despite my clipped responses and return to formalities as I had served him. I could tell that my return to calling him Mr. Shelby had bothered him and I secretly felt joy at his pain. Good. He deserved it for giving me to Kimber as if I were his personal whore.

Still, it perplexed me that he was making an effort with me, despite the fact that he knew my ties to Chicago. I didn't know the extent of it, but it was evident that he knew who I really was. It shocked me that he hadn't sent me away. It was if he had cared about me, despite my past. He had a hilarious way of showing it with the disaster that ensued at the races.

Our tension only seemed to overjoy Grace, as she saw her worthy adversary conquered. My absence made it possible for Grace to begin work as the accountant for Arthur and thus by extension, the Shelbys. She had won the silent war between us. Mulling this over, I snorted at this observation as I was filling someone's beer mug. She could have the fucking bastard.

As the twilight turned to the dark of night, Harry bid me a good evening as I began to close The Garrison. I had felt bad for Harry. Everything that he worked for was negotiated out of his hands by the Shelbys. Nothing would ever be the same.

The thunderous knock had broken my sour thoughts half past eleven. I sighed, as I knew who stood on the other side of the door. Against my better judgement, I opened the door. I didn't give a fuck that this was his brother's pub. I would not make it easy for him.

"What the fuck do you want, _Mr. Shelby_?"

"Now is not the time, Antonina, I need your help."

The urgency in his voice cut me at the quick and I sensed that he was in trouble. I relented my aggression, momentarily.

"Tommy, are you expecting trouble?"

"Yeah."

"At this hour?"

"Midnight is as good as any."

I only had my knife on me. I had left my gun in Chicago when I left for the war. I frantically looked around at anything that could be a weapon. A chair, some bar glasses, and a knife were no match for the oncoming hell that Tommy had likely brought upon himself. What fucking trouble could he be in?

"What the fuck is going on? If you need my help, you must tell me."

"When the St. Andrew's bell strikes midnight two IRA men are going to come through that door. When they have what they want, they plan to kill me. It's your job to stop that happening."

Oh, fuck it was bad.

"You could have given me warning, Tommy. I could have taken you away to safety."

His eyes looked at me warily, scoffing at the idea of hiding. I knew better: Tommy Shelby did not hide.

"I just got the message myself. They want to meet here alone-"

"And _barmaids don't count_?" How the fuck could I joke at a time like this? I was getting good at this again.

"No. Barmaids don't count. Now you're going to be in the back room. I am going to be sitting there. When I make the toast "barmaids don't count," you're going to come out with this gun raised. You do not shoot. Point. I will do the rest, ya hear?"

He pressed the loaded gun in my hand. He didn't waste his time, showing me how to use it.

He knew me. The real me.

"The police want them alive-"

"You involved the police?"

Now this was an interesting turn of events. The copper bastards and Tommy Shelby working together to defeat the Fenians.

"Yes. Just hold it up and point. Now go."

I rushed to the back room, waiting for my cue. Despite my anger at Tommy, fear suddenly gripped my heart. I could not let him die. I would murder these men in cold blood, if it was the last thing that I would ever do. I would not lose him, like I lost David. My greatest fears had come to life.

Maybe I did love Tommy Shelby despite everything. And he was going to die before me tonight.

I had to remind myself to breathe, willing myself to stay in the moment.

I could hear the muffled voices and the exchanges about the location of guns. I barely made the connection that the Peaky Blinders _did_ have the guns that the copper was looking for. When the cue came, I rushed into the room and saw the IRA man pointing the gun at Tommy. Without a moment's hesitation, my bullet found the space between his eyes.

Pandemonium ensued and it was as if time stood still.

I rushed to shoot the other man, but the ensuing fight had knocked the man's pistol into my head, gashing my forehead. I briefly lost sight, tumbling to the floor. Fucking convenient.

The best shot in Chicago wasted on a goddamned concussion.

I could hear Tommy losing the fight, but I could not make my limbs move to my will. I began to panic as my vision began to grow black. _Fuck fuck fuck, please let him live God._

The brutal beating of a man jarred me from my state. As I tried to wipe the blood from my eyes, a man began to lift me up. My animalistic instincts kicked in and my greatest fear was confirmed: Tommy had been the one to lose. I started to fight the executioner, clawing and screaming my lungs out. I would not die without a fight. I cursed the man straight to hell, until I could hear Tommy's voice breaking through to me.

"Antonina, Antonina, Antonina," the executioner had said, as I continued to thrash about like a wild animal.

" _TONI_. It is me."

My vision had returned to my eyes and I saw it was him clear as day.

Tommy.

He was alive.

Involuntarily, I let out a strangled sob of relief. He gripped my shoulders, piercing my gaze with his blue eyes.

"Antonina, why did you shoot? Why did you shoot?"

"I couldn't lose you, Tommy."

He looked to me and then turned his attention to the dead men that lay in the floor. It surprised me when he took me in his arms. I breathed in his scent, thanking the universe that he was still with me. I had saved him. His voice caressed me, as he spoke.

"So, now you've seen me."

"And you've seen me."

Our embrace was cut short by a commotion outside.

When the cops entered, Tommy's anger boiled over and he yelled at the bastards that they were supposed to come on the sixth chime. The sixth fucking chime. He explained that the men had refused to surrender and they fought like brave men.

"Well he looks like he was killed by a wild fucking animal. Still this never happened and they were never here, who cares?" the copper bastard spoke, indifferent to what we had been through. I scoffed. As if they fucking cared. They left us to die.

"Will you get the bodies out of here?" Tommy said, his gaze turning to me.

"Alright, are they making the lady uncomfortable? I'll leave you two love birds to it then."

My eyes widened at the cop's joke over the dead bodies and my gaze turned to my room upstairs. I knew that I could not and I would not sleep here. I would be a sitting duck. I bit my lip, mulling over who I could turn to for the night.

Tommy sensed my thoughts and took my hand, leading me away from The Garrison, as the coppers had begun to take the bodies away. Numbly, I followed. As we hit the cold March night's air, I involuntarily shivered. In a flash, Tommy had offered me his coat. I took it, murmuring gratitude as I put the oversized coat onto my body.

I pulled his coat close to me, enjoying the smell of smoke and Tommy.

"I am so sorry, Antonina."

I nodded, unsure what exactly he was apologizing for.

For awhile, we walked in total silence. It was not uncomfortable for me though, as we walked. I felt...safe again. I felt nearly whole for the first time in days.

Maybe I was mad.

How could I turn a blind eye to this and murder a man for him? Maybe Antonina Paltrowicz was alive in here, after all.

We arrived at a residence, on Watery Lane. My eyes widened, knowing it was the Shelby home. He sensed my apprehension.

"Antonina, I have no intention on beddin' you tonight. I don't want you to sleep at The Garrison tonight. It is unsafe. I want to protect you tonight."

I wanted to point out the fact that I wouldn't have fucked him if he were last man on earth, but I simply nodded, entering the door that he held open for me. We walked through the home to his study. His family's home was beautiful and large without being grandoise. It reminded me briefly of the betting dens and my family's home in Chicago. A deep pain of nostalgia and longing brought me back to the North Side-but for only a moment.

As he poured whiskey, he noticed my expression, incorrectly guessing that my thoughts had turned to the war, triggered by my murder of the IRA man. I had killed men before, this was nothing to me. I had just missed home, but only briefly.

He brought me my whiskey and he began to clean up the wound that had started to scab over on my forehead. I pulled away from his contact at first, then settled into him. It wasn't the pain. His hands were gentle, though I wouldn't have given a thought about the pain. I had much worse in my life. This gash was no comparison. It was his touch. It felt as if electricity was pulsing through his fingertips, shocking me with every touch.

As I tried not to focus on his hands on me, I focused on the whiskey. The cool liquid burned and warmed my insides. After he finished cleaning my wound, he sat on the small couch next to me, silently toasting his whiskey to me. I smiled in gratitude at him, though I am sure that my smile looked demented with my head wound. I looked around, lost in thought.

As usual, his voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Sometimes, you think that it is all okay. What we went through will be laid in the past, in the fields of Flanders. But then, in the safety of your mind or your work or your home, a moment brings you back," he spoke. When I saw the sight of the man that he had beaten to death, I knew that he was back in the tunnels of France. He beat the man to beat the memories from his head. It seemed that he was more troubled by it than I was. I nodded at his statement, wishing that I could articulate that I knew what he meant. But words failed me. I didn't know why he had brought me here to have a drink with him. I didn't know why he bothered to take care of me, despite the fact that I had saved his life tonight...deviating from the plan.

"Antonina, I need to know why you really shot him."

I sighed, feeling conflicted at his sudden interrogation.

The words came tumbling out. He had seen me murder a man in cold blood tonight. I had only confirmed what he knew. He wanted me to tell him who I really was, but I wasn't ready to face it quite yet. So, I began to explain why I had killed the man so quickly instead.

"Sometimes, I see his face. I feel the terror of his loss. I felt it tonight, as I hid in the backroom. I couldn't let you suffer the fate as Dav-him."

"David Casey, your dead husband."

I couldn't help, but flinch at his knowledge of David's name. Despite my usual defensive impulses, I simply nodded.

"Yes. When I saw the man pointing the gun at your head, I think it brought me back. I had imagined saving David so many times in those trenches and I knew that I had the power to save you. So I did. I would do it again a million times over." I answered quietly, willing him to move on from the subject of David and the war entirely. Tommy sensed this, moving his line of questioning on.

"Where are you really from Antonina?"

This was it. Everything that I had hoped would never surface. It had come to light.

"I am from Chicago. My father is from Kraków and my mother is from Saint Petersburg."

"You speak three languages."

"Yes, Polish, English, and Russian."

"You left Chicago for the war directly?"

"Yes, I did."

"So tell me...how did _Antonina_ _Paltrowicz_ find herself in the Birmingham then, when she had an entire family enterprise in Chicago to return to?"


	11. A Dying Promise: Part Eleven

Part Eleven:

"So tell me...how did _Antonina_ _Paltrowicz_ find herself in the Birmingham then, when she had an entire family enterprise in Chicago to return to?"

I choked on my whiskey. I had known that it was coming and yet, the news had hit me like a grenade. Childishly, my first reaction was anger to his knowledge about who I really was. The way that he had stressed Paltrowicz had told me everything that I needed to know about how he viewed me in that moment…..like I had betrayed his trust for simply existing. I was furious. I had just killed a man for him. I had to leave my home, because it was unsafe for me to stay with the murders of the two IRA men.

Could I be angry with him? Sure. But I was more angry at myself and my family in this moment.

I could never run from my family and their bullshit, no matter how hard I tried. Anger shot through me. I thought of a million ways to cut him into bits and throw him in the cut, like my family used to throw people into the lake. I sighed. I was trapped. I couldn't run anymore from this.

Anger turned to despair to acceptance. There was no point in denying my past to him. I turned to answer him with a fire behind my eyes.

"I never dreamed of myself helping them rule Chicago forever. You were really asking me why I had hit the Fenian between the eyes with your gun tonight….you know the answer. I have murdered before. I never murdered out of callousness, only necessity. I was protecting my family and innocent civilians. I wanted to protect my family, as they protected their own. But there came a time when I was nothing more than a pawn to my family. So I left when I needed to as soon as the Americans entered the war. It was my opportunity to leave."

I knew that I had been rather vague in my analysis of the situation, I had hoped that he would understand. He simply nodded, processing this information. He calculated his next move. A sick smirk etched his face, leaving me crestfallen. He did not understand.

"So you signed up for the great cause to get back at your family, likely romanticized by the war. You lost your husband in the war, probably using him as a vehicle to escape from your past life. Now you are a war widow, trying to start a new life as a barmaid where there are little connections to the Poles or the Russians. But you returned to your ways. You saw me and my family as a way to reestablish your past life," Tommy confidently said as he took a gulp of his whiskey. I scoffed at his inaccuracies, perplexing him.

"You have never been more wrong in your life."

I had meant to sound menacing, but my voice cracked as I said this.

I tried to give him the nastiest look that I could muster. But instead, my face crumpled and I felt the tears, cascading down my face. I hated Tommy Shelby in this moment. I started to get up, to leave this cursed house. I needed to leave the city tonight.

He grabbed my hand, pulling me softly beside him on the couch. His expression had softened.

"Please don't leave, Antonina. If you run, I will only assume that my quick calculations are correct. Explain to me why I am so wrong about this. Please," he pleaded. I could barely see him through the tears. As I roughly wiped my eyes with the back of my hands, I saw it. I saw the regret in his eyes. He willed me to continue, leaning into me. His blue eyes trapped me.

Why did he care so much about if he was wrong? Tommy Shelby was never wrong, and yet...he was so wrong about me in this moment.

 _They will take care of you, Antonina._ I heard David's voice in my head.

I sighed, accepting the madness of the situation. I had to try.

I grabbed his hands with a sense of urgency and he seemed stupified by my touch. I took a deep breath.

"Alright. If I tell you all of this, you have to trust me. No more games. No more feigning indifference towards me or assumin' the worst of me. Please tell me that I have your word, Tommy."

"I promise, Antonina."

It was always a promise that led me to life changing decisions in my life. I had only hoped that this would end with good fortune.

"I met David in my youth in Chicago a year before the war. I loved him. Really, I loved him more than words could ever say," I choked, momentarily stopping. Tommy squeezed my hands to continue.

"He made me soft…..and it was okay. He made me want to be a better person. My family hated it. My family did not want me with an Irish man, even if he was a good Catholic. Especially since this man would have complicated their business expenditures. They probably wanted me to marry a man in the business, likely to establish business relationships as they took over the city. I was their pawn. I resented them for it, because finally, I had a man who loved me. I wanted to marry him following the first day that I knocked him over in the park," I chucked, remembering the day that I had met him. Tommy smiled, as if he were there the day that I had met David.

"He made me see past the killings, the money, the status. When we married three days before he left for France, I vowed to follow him to the ends of the earth, to hell and back. I took my vows seriously. When he was drafted, I joined the Red Cross to serve on the same continent as him soon after he got his papers. He knew my plans before he left. He supported them, though he asked me to leave right away...he was afraid that they would kill me. I wanted to believe that he was wrong...My word meant everything and honor was above everything to me. There was no honor in running...To leave without explanation would be the most dishonorable thing that I could have ever done….so I stayed to make amends and explain to them why I was leaving. My parents were furious with me that I had married him, but to leave them and turn my back on the business for the "bullshit in Europe"? It was unforgivable. It was the hardest thing that I had ever done up to that point. Honor was...is everything to me...The day that I left Chicago, was the day that I died to my parents. They had tried to make sure of it in practice….but they failed." I grimaced, willing myself to stay in the moment. Tommy tensed beside me, likely knowing what I had meant. The scars were there to prove it. But I couldn't go there right now. Not yet.

"But I had made a promise to David. So despite what they did to prevent my leaving, I left. I wanted to be better, to save lives. Following the war, David and I had planned to start over. Fate had a different set of plans. It was chance that I was stationed near where he was injured at St. Quentin. His last dying promise was for me to find Harry, because I could never return to America. If I were ever to return to Chicago alone, they would kill me," my voice was barely above a whisper. When I finally met his gaze, we locked eyes. I had bared my soul to this man. I had told him almost everything. Our eyes communicated everything that we couldn't bring ourselves to say in that moment. Unspoken apologies were said in our eyes. We stayed like this for what felt like years. He broke the silence, speaking his apology outloud to me.

"I am so sorry, Toni. I was wrong. For ignoring you, for Kimber, for everything tonight."

I nodded and I sat upon his apology. While his initial intentions were less than honorable, there was something anew between us following the reveal of my past tonight. While he knew the bare bones of it all, he hadn't known the depth of it until this moment. How could he?

I hoped that he understood why I did what I did, though I don't think that he knew the level of betrayal and cruelty that they had inflicted upon me following my wedding and the news of my impending departure.

To anyone else, it would have seemed like the ultimate story of betrayal on my part. I had turned my back on the family business, something they would never let me forget until the day that I die. I briefly put myself into Tommy's place.

He was trying to protect his family and himself from whatever carnage that my presence may bring. I knew that I would have done the same after seeing a man shoot someone dead in cold blood, only confirming my deepest fears and suspicions about his past. I sighed, nodding to move the thoughts to words.

"I understand why you were weary of me, even if it was poor timing on your part given the events of tonight." I sighed. He shrugged sheepishly, but I knew that he knew what I had really meant.

Bringing back the old Antonina in self defense for good measure, he had to know what I was capable of.

"But Thomas Shelby, I need you to know that I do not turn my back on the people that I have sworn to protect despite what you may think of what I have done to my family. If I wanted to fuck you up, you would have been dead at the time of my choosing. I saved your life tonight, a fact that I hope that you don't forget at the disclosure of this information. I will stay in Small Heath."

The words detailing my plan to stay in the city served as a warning to him. A challenge to send me away.

"I would never send you away from Small Heath, Antonina," he fiercely said to me.

I blinked, surprised by his disclosure. He would let me stay.

"Then okay. I understand why you did what you did. Given your status, you rightfully questioned the daughter of Piotr and Marina Paltrowicz. I would have done the same in your shoes. The truth is, Antonina Paltrowicz died the day that she left Chicago. Antonina Paltrowicz-Casey died the day that David Banan Casey died in St. Quentin Canal. The woman that you see before you is Antonina Casey. I am Antonina Casey, Tommy."

* * *

Shame.

Shame had filled Tommy following the information that she shared.

Although his gut had told him that Antonina Paltrowicz meant no harm to him by living in Birmingham, he had been on alert for the arrival of anyone that may have been marked as an infiltrator or a source of betrayal. He knew that someone would likely try to suss out information from him and his family as an undercover with the arrival of the inspector. Antonina was not the prime candidate to work for the coppers, but she fit a particular bill that could be adapted to the situation. A former gangster from America, involved in the Great War. Given her family's business, she could had easily done something to warrant blackmail from the Allies. Despite her sweet albeit moody character, she was from one of the most dangerous families in America. When she shot the man dead in The Garrison tonight, her shoot to kill accuracy only confirmed his informant's information. Yet, when she had revealed to him everything that he needed to know about her with a warning of her own, he knew that she would not betray him. She had saved him in more ways than one, more than just his life tonight.

He had kept his hands in her hands as she spoke, never dropping his gaze from her. When she finally stopped speaking, he had so many questions for her. He decided to start with the love of her life and why Small Heath had become her refuge.

"What happened to David at St. Quentin Canal, Antonina? Why did you come to Small Heath?"

She sighed, as if she knew the questions would come sometime between them.

"He was shot multiple times. It was a surprise attack. Tunnelers had come through from the German side of the trenches. He rushed them. He had saved many men in his squadron, with his sacrifice. While the surgeries were successful to remove the bullets, infection set in rather quickly. It was blood poisoning. It took just a few days and he was gone. I had tried to care for him...but I couldn't save him. Even in death, he took care of me and he saved me. He sent me to The Garrison, because he knew that I could not return to America...my family made sure of it. Even if I wanted to, I am marked by my betrayal. One look and you know that I am...I was Antonina Paltrowicz," she said, gritting her teeth at the memory. He felt the shaking of her arms. He knew the signs of trauma starting to grip her. He took both of her arms in his, murmuring that she was safe in Small Heath. She was safe with him. When she returned to the moment, he had to know what had happened to her.

"Marked?"

"I-"

Antonina sighed, cutting herself off. Resigned, she couldn't merely explain it to him. She had to share this final piece of her story with him. A sick feeling gripped his stomach as he watched her unbutton her dress. In the past, feelings of excitement would have followed a woman taking off her dress. Tommy had imagined undressing Antonina countless times as he lay in bed awake at night, but he never imagined this. Despite the gravity of the situation, Tommy drank in her beauty as he saw her breasts spill out of the dress and shift she had pulled down. He admired her courage, bravery, and most of all her beauty, even though she was lost in the moment of pain. Antonina pushed her dress to her waist and turned to show Tommy her neck and back.

Tommy couldn't breathe. Her back had looked as if a wild animal had attacked her. He knew the truth: someone had taken a blade and declared her back open season. He couldn't help, but to lightly graze his fingers over the skin. She involuntarily shivered. He wanted to kiss every last inch. The one word carved into her back 'zdrada' stopped his fingers in their tracks.

"It means "betrayal," Tommy," Antonina answered his unspoken question.

His voice, thick with grief, barely choked out the question:

"Who did this to you?"

"You already know the answer to that question, Tommy."

"I want to know who, Antonina."

"My family had sent one of my cousins to kill me, after my brothers refused to do it for them. My brothers had warned me to leave after my mother had given the order to kill me. I knew that it was coming and yet...I wouldn't let them run me out of the city. I wasn't afraid of death...there were so many times where I should have died. I live on extra time. My cousin had always hated me, but I knew that he wouldn't kill his kin. They would have killed David, but he was already on his way to the war. So instead of killing me or him, Petrov did what he considered the second worst thing to me instead. To live with the betrayal on my back for turning my back on the family. He thought that I would writh in pain for days and miss my departure from the city, but I left anyways. My youngest brother arranged for me to take the midnight train with one of our associates out of the city after I went to him, bleeding on the streets. I barely remember the train to New York City. I boarded the boat and in just a week, I had set down in France. It was the most excruciating journey of my life. But I had made a promise."

He admired the strength of this woman more than any of the men that he had seen die in the fields of France. She had fled a war of her own to join the war that had ravaged all of their lives. He could imagine her, writhing in pain for days as she sailed into the hell that had awaited her during the war. His heart broke, as he imagined her jumping in action with her back still bleeding and tender from her family's betrayal.

"I am going to fuckin' kill them all," he spat through gritted teeth. She smiled, sadly.

"It was a long time ago, Tommy. Another lifetime." Antonina looked down at the floor as she slipped the dress back in place, too lost in the moment to redo the buttons of her dress.

He cupped her face in his hands, fiercely looking into her pained, hazel eyes. He would never let them hurt her again.

"I will protect you, Antonina. I will never let any man or person hurt you again. I promise."

If this wasn't a declaration of love, she did not know what else could be.


	12. A Dying Promise: Part Twelve

Author's Note: This is the part that you have likely been waiting for. Please note that this chapter is filled with Thomas Shelby smut. It is for mature audiences only. You have been warned. Enjoy. xx A

* * *

Part Twelve:

"I will protect you, Antonina. I will never let any man or person hurt you again. I promise."

I felt the love in his words, shocking me from the ghosts of my past. I felt my heart in my throat. Despite every logical part of my brain screaming at me to stop what I was doing, I pressed my cheek into his hands. I returned the fierce gaze of the man who continued to save me time and time again. From danger. From pain. From myself. No longer did I see the ghost of David in front of me. I saw the man that I had come to love. Tommy Shelby.

My hand shaking, touched his face. His cheek seemed to melt in my hands. Here we were.

There was no going back from this moment.

"I know that you will, Tommy. I trust you with my life."

I pulled his face to meet my own. His eyes, glazed with desire, started a fire in my stomach as I met his lips with mine. He moaned into my mouth, as I tangled my fingers in his hair. It was if a grenade of desire went off between us. He pressed my back to the couch, his hand lightly touching my long healed wounds, protecting them, as the weight of his body fit every crevice of my own. The thoughtfulness of the action was not lost on me, as we kissed. When I felt his erection pressing into my thigh, I pulled him closer, grinding into him. It shocked me when he started to pull away.

"Toni, I promised you that I wasn't going to bed you tonight."

"Fuck that promise. I want you, Tommy. Take me to bed now."

He gazed into my eyes, searching for any hint of regret that may lie within them. I could only see the mirror of my desire reflected in the deep blue ocean of his irises. He picked me up, hitching me around his waist and he carried me up the stairs to his room.

We crashed onto his bed, his hand behind my head careful to steady me onto the bed. The continued thoughtfulness of his actions warmed me. He carefully peeled me out of my dress, seeing the red shift underneath.

"I want to look at you, Antonina."

He drank in my body, with a sense of wonder that filled me with happiness. Tommy Shelby desired me. Growing impatient, I grabbed him and I pushed him onto the bed next to me, straddling him. Everything seemed to stand still, as I quickly pulled his suit jacket off and undid the I started to unbutton his shirt, placing my hands onto his chest, examining the places that I had only dreamt of touching. I kissed each ray of the sun tattoo on the left of his chest. Seeing the scar from a bullet, I lightly kissed it, feeling the emotions catch in my throat at the sight. His hand held my cheek, gazing into my eyes.

As I went to help him out of his pants, my hand rubbed against the erection pressing through them instead. He moaned my name as my fingers carefully teased him. I started to massage his cock more intimately, staring into his eyes as I did. He closed his eyes in pleasure, opening them.

"Enough, Antonina. I don't want to cum in my pants."

I smirked, finally helping him out of his pants. He pulled the shift over my head, helping me out of my undergarments, flipping me underneath him.

He started to kiss down my body, placing my erect nipples into his mouth, lightly grazing them with his teeth. Desire erupted throughout my body and I moaned his name. He continued kissing down my body, until his lips met the tuft of my pubic bone. He continued until his face was between my legs. Never breaking eye contact even with my perplexed face, he slowly slipped two fingers inside me. He began to slide them inside and outside, as his tongue met my clitoris. I moaned in pleasure. Although I had been intimate with men before, I had never experienced a man pleasuring me with his mouth. It was pure ecstasy. I began to grind against him, the edge of my orgasm coming. He took his hands away from inside in me, lightly clutching my hips as his tongue continued to circle my clitoris. My body quaked beneath him and I cried out his name as I came.

Slowly, his face met mine as he kissed me passionately. How erotic it was to taste myself on his lips. He cupped my cheek with one hand as he entered me, filling me whole.

I groaned in pleasure at the use of my nickname, as he began to thrust into me. My fingers traced his spine, as my legs wrapped around his hips. He took my hands in his own, placing them above me as he continued to make love to me. While it could have been interpreted as pure fucking to anyone else, I felt the love of Thomas Shelby in that moment.

We moved positions to where I was on top of him, gaining control. As he lay beneath me, I eased myself back onto his cock, slowly riding up and down. He moaned. I began to swivel my hips and grind into him as I felt the edge of another orgasm coming. Seeing me begin to come undone began to set him over the edge. Sitting up, he took my head into his hands, kissing me so passionately, I lost my breath. As I began found my release, he found his. His undoing left to an earthquake of pleasure into my body. I closed my eyes, moaning his name.

I pressed my forehead into his, feeling his eyelashes fluttering against my own as he looked down at my body and back into my eyes.

"You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

I smiled, as I told him that the fight must have really knocked his eyesight out of balance.

He rolled his eyes, clutching my face in his hands.

"Antonina Casey, I remember the first time I laid eyes upon you. You took my breath away."

* * *

It had been everything that Thomas Shelby had imagined and more, making love to Antonina. As they embraced one another intimately, Tommy really felt like he had seen Antonina for everything that she was tonight: intelligent, driven, loyal, passionate, resilient, witty, and a true fighter. She sacrificed herself, the life that she knew for something better. Though what she did would be taken as the ultimate betrayal, she faced up to her decision with more courage than anyone he had ever known. She was everything he had ever needed and more. She had healed a hole that was left in his soul following the loss of Greta, the loss of himself in the war, and everything left in the wake of his trials.

"You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he had said to her, refusing to hide the emotion in his voice.

"Tommy, I think that your vision has been severely damaged after tonight's events," she teased him, giggling. What a beautiful sound that she made with her giggles.

He rolled his eyes, clutching her face with a fierce determination.

"Antonina Casey, I remember the first time I laid eyes upon you. You took my breath away."

He sighed, knowing what he had to do.

Knowing that she had bared her soul to him this evening, he knew that she deserved the truth in turn. He sighed again, the playful air evaporating between them at the change of his mood. Without moving her off of him, he placed his arm around her as he grabbed the cigarettes off the bedside table. Antonina noticed the symbolance behind the action immediately. Whatever it was, he needed the bravery that the nicotine would bring him before telling her whatever it was that troubled him. The fear peppered her face. He lit the cigarette, before giving it to her and lighting one of his own. Taking a drag, she broke the silence, moving off of him to face him.

"What is it, Tommy? You can tell me anything."

His thoughts returned to the day that he had met her.

"When I was walking that day, the day that you had arrived in Small Heath, I had a lot on my mind. It has to do with why the IRA men wanted me dead tonight...the Peaky Blinders came into a very important set of contraband...of interest to the Crown-"

"The guns. You have the guns that they are looking for," she said, as if the news was not breaking to her.

Now it was his turn to be shocked by what Antonina had known about him.

"You knew."

"I had my suspicions, but it was the conversation that took place tonight that confirmed it."

He smirked, secretly happy that Antonina had been cognizant enough to listen to business even in the face of death.

"Yet, you still shot the man dead without a moment's hesitation."

"I have no interest in what The Crown wants or needs, Tommy. Your secret is safe with me."

He kissed her passionately, before continuing.

"What I really am wantin' to say is that when I first saw you, you took my breath away because….you were the ghost of her."

Antonina had stilled, not daring to make a move as Tommy continued on.

"My first love. Her name was Greta. She had consumption. I sat by her bed everyday for three months before she passed on, holding her hand. I loved her. When she passed, I went to war," he said, taking a drag of his cigarette. Her eyes had went blank and he faltered, lowering his gaze. He was unsure how she would process this information. Mistaking her silence as judgement, he continued, trying to set her worries to bed.

"But when I blinked again, my gaze returned to you. You were the most beautiful woman that I had ever seen. You beguiled me, as you continue to do."

A sad expression painted her hazel eyes, as she began to smile.

"Do you want to know why I was so rude to you, so insistent on you to leave me the fuck alone as I tried to find The Garrison?"

He chuckled, remembering the day.

"I was so shocked that you spoke to me that way."

"Someone has to call you on your bullshit, Thomas Shelby."

He chuckled again, taking pleasure in how she challenged him. She swallowed, a sudden anxiety taking her face. He turned stoically to her, as he took her face in his hands.

"Tell me why, Toni."

"It was because... you were the ghost of him. I dropped my cigarette, because I thought it was David standing before me. I thought that I had gone mad. But when I returned your gaze, it was you."

He pressed his forehead into her, drinking in the present between them.

"You have saved me in more ways than one from my past, Thomas Shelby."

His heart warmed at her words.

"And you with me, Antonina."

The fatigue of their rendez-vous began to settle in between the two of them as the candlelight waned in the night.

"Let us put the ghosts of our past to bed, Antonina. Come to sleep, my love."

As they lay on Tommy's bed together, he pulled her into his arms. He kissed her hair, as she trailed off to sleep in his arms.

For the first time since the war, Tommy Shelby had no nightmares to greet him as he drifted off to sleep.


	13. A Dying Promise: Part Thirteen

Author's Note:

I am so sorry that I have not updated this story in so many days! I just moved from the United States to Poland for my university studies. Any readers from Poland? Napisz do mnie. :-)

I did want to leave a quick organizational note for this chapter and the next chapter. I realize that I did not cover the wedding between John and Esme in my story thus far. So I am switching the event sequence in the series a bit to cover the Lee wedding and the birth of Karl within these next few chapters. The general timeline of the series will resume after the birth of Karl. I do plan to write this story through the fourth series, so I hope that this is welcome news!

I hope that you enjoy! xx A

* * *

Part Thirteen:

It is morning.

The sunlight breaking through the window tells me that I have slept much later than I usually would allow myself to sleep. When the dawn had usually broken the horizon of the buildings, it had been the thing to save me from my nightmares. Strange, that they did not come to find me in the night. In fact, I had the most pleasant dreams of Tommy the night before. I sighed, smiling at the vivid dreams.

I stretched my limbs, my left arm connecting with a man's body.

I froze, unable to stifle the gasp that came out of my mouth. I opened my eyes, turning to see Thomas Shelby's beautiful blue irises appear, greeting me in the late morning.

The memories of the night before had flashed before my eyes, making me grin like a mad loon. I was in Thomas Shelby's bed.

"Good mornin' Toni," he said, gazing into my eyes. Oh, how they made me go soft.

"Good mornin' Tom," I said to him.

He pressed his lips to mine, desire erupting through my body with a vengeance. He had shifted to lay on top of me, placing his hands into my own. As we kissed passionately, he began pushing our arms to meet the wall behind my bed. We were just about to have a re-creation of last night's activities when the door suddenly flew open.

"Tommy, John has called a family meetin-"

Polly had stopped in the doorway, her mouth gaping at the sight of us. I froze beneath Tommy, as he sighed, asking if there was any fuckin' privacy in this home. Polly noticed my forehead, frowning, as she took in the sight of Tommy's face.

"Lover's spat?" Polly asked, calmly.

"I'll tell ya later, Pol. We had some trouble at The Garrison, but we will talk about it later."

Polly nodded, before turning her attention back to me.

"Sorry to interrupt, love," she said to me before she moved her gaze back to Tommy.

"Tommy. John has business at The Garrison for us to attend to."

Polly turned to leave, winking at me. She finally closed the door. I felt Tommy relax on top of me, sighing again as he began to move off of me. He began to dress, before turning to me.

"Antonina, get dressed. I want you at the meeting."

My eyes widened, following his words.

He wanted me at the family meeting…..was I even allowed to be there? Something told me that what Tommy Shelby wanted, Tommy Shelby got.

He sensed my apprehension, pausing only briefly to consider why I was suddenly too self conscious to attend a business family meeting. He tipped his head at me, with a sudden worry replacing his playful expression.

"Tommy...I am not family."

He visibly relaxed, as he shook his head. He lit a cigarette, as he mulled over my words.

"You are as good as family to me and my own, Toni. I want you there...I want you to help me with business. With everythin.' I want you to be a part of it all," he said. His confession came quickly, as if he were scared of my coming reaction. I felt my breath leave my body.

It felt as if my head were spinning. Could I do this again? I vowed to never return to the family business….I had promised David. But...technically I would be keeping that promise if I did join the business with Tommy. It was his family business….would they become my family like he already considered me to be?

Truth be told, I had already made this decision the moment that I laid down with Thomas Shelby.

So I walked to him with purpose, never breaking his gaze. I took his cigarette from his mouth, taking a drag.

"Okay, Tommy. I will."

His eyes twinkled as he looked down my naked body, returning to meet my eyes as I continued to pierce his gaze. He cupped my face, as he took the cigarette out of my mouth. He kissed me, taking my breath away.

"Toni Casey...I love you."

I was shocked by his declaration of love, even though his promise of protection and invitation to the business were already enough to solidify in my mind that Thomas Shelby loved me.

"I love you too, Tommy Shelby."

He pressed his forehead into mine momentarily, when the thunderous pounding at his door began again. He chuckled, swearing.

"Alright, get dressed. We have business to attend to, love," he said, swatting my backside. I yelped, laughing at him. He grabbed my shift, placing it over my head. He handed me the dress, giving me privacy as he slipped out the door.

Dazed by the quick turn of events, I found myself dressing quickly. I turned to the mirror in his room, fixing my short hair in place. My face was still red from the blush that appeared at the interruption from Polly just minutes before. My forehead still had the nasty wound from the night before, though it was concealed to one gash line. My lips were swollen from our rendezvous. I sighed. What a mess I was. This would have to do for my first day as an official Peaky Blinder.

I descended the stairs of the Shelby residence, walking into the parlor to see Tommy looking out the window. A cigarette hung from his lips, as he seemed to be deep in thought. A swell of pride flooded my chest: this gorgeous, intelligent, stubborn man was mine. He turned to look at me, a small smile playing behind his usual stoic face. I walked over to him, taking his cigarette from his mouth and placing it in my own to smoke. His hand found my hip.

"Stealin' more than just my heart, are ya?"

I smiled, placing my hand against his cheek. I smiled at him.

"Aye Tommy-"

Arthur suddenly stopped in the doorway, taking in the scene between Tommy and me. A warm smile, albeit sad, broke across his face.

"Fuckin' finally, Tom," he said, beginning to laugh. I smiled at Arthur's words.

"Hello Arthur," I said to him.

"'Ello Toni," he said, before turning his attention to the appearance of Polly. Polly nodded, smiling at Tommy and I's embrace. Tommy moved away from me as she began to discuss business with Tommy. Before we left the residence, Polly placed Scudboat in charge of the Shelby home until John could return to the family home. Looking pointedly at Scutboat, Tommy declared that John would return rather quickly, as having one man in charge of the household was a risk.

As we walked to The Garrison, I watched in awe as people moved away from the Shelby family and I, allowing us to pass by them. It was so strange to have the town's residents tipping their hat at me as I walked past, though it was not an unknown feeling. In fact, it left a deep feeling of nostalgia in me, from Chicago. I banished the thought away as soon as it came.

As we entered The Garrison, Polly and Tommy went to the bar to ask for a bottle of whiskey and glasses for all of us, as Arthur and I entered the room to meet John. The look of shock took over Grace's face as I made my way into the room. It brought me an immense satisfaction that I could not explain.

As we took our places, John looked at me curiously, though he did not inquire why I was there for the meeting. In fact, he seemed to know that this was coming as he greeted me, nervously.

"Glad to see ya here, Toni. I could really use your perspective here." He stopped, taking in my perplexed expression. "As a widow," he clarified, smiling sadly. _Oh._ I simply nodded.

"All right, John. There's only one right...No. There's only one man guarding the house. What's troubling you?"

John swallowed, looking down at the table before breathing in a deep breath for confidence. He turned to Polly and me.

"Polly, you know what it's been like since Martha died. Toni, you know what it's like to lose 'em," he said, nodding. I nodded in return, smiling sadly.

"God takes the best first," Polly said. Ain't that the truth, I thought, throwing back my whiskey. I frowned slighting, realizing I hadn't drank whiskey in the morning since before the war. When I was _her_.

"The truth is, my kids have been running bloody rings around me. Running barefoot with the dogs until all hours-"

"Pol, give him ten bob, some shoes. Is that it, John?" Tommy said, appearing irritated. I frowned further, looking at him curiously as if to question his sour attitude. Polly admonished him, before willing John to continue.

"What the kids need is a mother. So, that's why I'm getting married."

Everyone in the room looked shocked, as we processed this information. Polly and Arthur looked to Tommy for a reaction, but he stood staring at the wall ahead. John looked at me, as if to beg me to help him. I spoke first, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Marriage after a loss is a big step, but I am sure that you have thought a lot about this."

John nodded, a grateful look appearing in his eyes.

"Does this poor girl that you're going to marry her or are you going to spring it on her all of a sudden?" Pol said, recovering her humor. I smiled, despite holding allegiance to John in this situation.

"I've already proposed and she said yes."

Tommy struck a match, lighting his cigarette before taking a drag.

"I think there's a shell about to land and go bang," Tommy said before turning his attention to John. He looked to me and I returned his look with my eyebrows raised. After our night together, I had hoped that he would be more sympathetic to John's plight.

"It's, er, Lizzie Stark."

Everyone, but me either laughed or smiled as the recognition of the name dispensed across the room. John met my eye, mistaking my silence as disapproval. A defensive attitude appeared over him with a vengeance. Polly spoke first.

"John, Lizzie Stark's a strong woman and I am sure she provides a fine service for her customers-"

"I WON'T HEAR THE WORD! Understand? Do not use that word."

His voice began to quiver with anger and despite my neutral position, I placed my hand over his, trying to calm him down. Tommy saw the display, straightening his back.

"What word is that John?" Tommy asked, egging John on. I withdrew my hand, sure that my display had earned John undeserved sarcasm from Tommy. I tipped my head at Tommy, as if to ask him why the fuck he was acting like this? He looked at me, shaking his head slightly. As if he knew something that I did not.

"You know what word that is," John said, glaring at the wall ahead. Arthur began to laugh, as he took a sip of his whiskey, before speaking.

"Everyone bloody knows-"

"Everyone can go to hell."

Tommy interrupted him, goading him on.

"Whore. That word? Or prostitute?"

My eyes widened, as I realized that Lizzie Stark was a sex worker. John slammed his hands down on the table, threatening everyone that if they said the word again, he'd shoot them down their throats.

A disagreement began between everyone again. John against the family. Me as the neutral observer. Tommy found my eye through it all. Even though we couldn't speak, I tried to communicate with him through my gaze that he should give this a chance. For John.

As John spoke, he told Tommy how much he wanted his approval. Tommy's face softened, as he began to be the only family member to give John a real chance.

Suddenly, Finn burst into the room, telling Tommy that they had been done over. Everyone began to move out of the room. Sensing my apprehension to follow, Tommy strode to me quickly, taking my elbow to welcome me along.

We ran to the Shelby residence and as we entered, we saw the pandemonium that lay in wake of our departure. Scudboat had been beaten bloody and the house lay in disarray, as papers, chairs, and tables were flipped upside down.

I sprang into action to tend to Scudboat's wounds as Arthur poured him a glass of whiskey. Arthur asked what happened as he handed Scudboat the glass. The culprits were soon to be determined as the Lees, another gypsy family. The name brought immediate recognition, as I realized that the Lees had also cursed Tommy's horse….the night that he asked me to the races.

Polly looked through the wreckage to see that the Lees took four cash boxes. Tommy walked slowly into the parlor and I froze at the sight of the object that he was carrying.

He carried a set of wire cutters.

"They left these," he said, showing everyone the wire cutters.

"Nobody move," Arthur said, cautiously.

"I think our friends are playing the game," Tommy said, his silky voice mixed with exasperation.

"What game?"

As Polly began to move, I frantically stepped forward to stop her.

"Polly, don't move or touch anything."

All of the men in the room turned to look at me, wondering how I knew this. Tommy began to speak.

"Erasmus Lee was in France."

"Shit," Scudboat said.

"When we gave up ground to the Germans, we'd leave behind booby traps, set up with wires. And we'd leave wire cutters as part of the joke."

"Somewhere in here there's a hand grenade," I said, confirming everyone's fears. Polly muttered, "Holy Jesus."

As everyone began to process this information and move slowly, Tommy stopped everyone saying that the bullet that he received had his name on it. The grenade was meant for him. This meant that the grenade would likely be in a place that only he would be in.

As everyone began to resume their activities slowly, I followed Tommy outside as he crept out the door to search for the grenade. I had to walk quickly to keep the pace with his, as it seemed that he did not want me (or anyone for that matter) to follow. While I assumed that it was his best intentions to keep me safe, it annoyed me more than I could say. I would never be safe, unless I was dead. To keep me away, was to keep me in the dark. To put me more at risk. Like how he didn't tell me that the Lees wanted him dead.

"When were you going to tell me that you have a bullet with your name on it, Tommy?"

He slowed his brisk pace to stop and look at me, a scowl overcoming his face. He sighed, as if my presence exasperated him in the moment. Finally, he knew how I felt with him all these weeks.

"Now is not the time for that, Antonina."

The return of the use of my full name irked me further. I would not let him talk to me as if I were an errant child, in need of chastisement. I looked at him, returning his scowl. Despite my anger, I took his face in my hands.

"Tommy, if I am to help you with business, we need to talk about everything that is going on. Not now, but soon. No more secrets. Because the bullets could come with my name eventually. I need to be prepared for it all. Better information, better business. Okay?"

He nodded, his cold expression melting slightly. I let go of his face and we walked silently. As we turned around the corner to an alley, we both stopped at the sight of Finn in his car. Dread overcame me as I realized why Tommy had walked here.

The grenade was in his car door.

Tommy's expression only confirmed it. He began to slowly walk towards the car.

"Finn? Finn, stay exactly where you are."

"Listen to Tommy, Finn. We will come to you."

Finn didn't seem to understand the peril in our voice, he chuckled, moving the steering wheel around.

"I was pretending I was you."

"Which door did you open to come in, Finn?"

"I didn't. I climbed in."

I continued to mirror Tommy's careful movements towards the car. We inched closer to the car. Tommy came around to the driver's side door and I took the other side of the car.

"I want you to climb out exactly the same way you climbed in, okay?" Tommy said, motioning for him to climb out.

It all happened so fast.

Finn laughed, opening the passenger door to get out. I grabbed Finn away from the car as Tommy reached into the car to grab the grenade. Tommy ran, yelling "clear!" before he threw the grenade against the concrete buildings. Men scattered as the grenade sailed through the air. Tommy collided with Finn and I, pushing us backwards as the grenade exploded.

The explosion nearly brought me back to the war. I had to take deep breaths, reminding myself that I had a shaking child clinging to my dress. I couldn't fall to pieces, I had to be strong. Tommy's arms around me helped remind me that I was here. In the moment. Safe as I could be.

We all walked towards the explosion to survey the damage. When it became clear that no one was hurt, Tommy told Finn that he should never, ever, pretend to be him. He hugged Finn, bringing me into the embrace. Finn nodded, crying.

We walked Finn back home, Finn holding both of our hands as we walked.

To any passerby, it would look like a family taking a leisurely stroll. A mother. A father. A son.

The thought made me momentarily emotional, though I knew that bringing a child into the world was a dangerous idea for Thomas Shelby and Antonina Paltrowicz.

But for now, this was enough for me.

As we entered the Shelby family household, I noticed a number of men affiliated with the Peaky Blinders cleaning the home. Tommy told me to wait in his room upstairs, while he went to go talk to Polly. As I walked into his room, I realized how little I had observed of the place. As I had been so preoccupied with Tommy the evening before, I hadn't really taken in the room.

My mother always said that you could always tell a lot about a person from his or her room.

A single bed with a headboard of rails sat in the middle of the room, against the wall. A small smile crept across my face as memories of the night before came flooding through my mind at the sight of it. A table and chair stood beside the bed, a dresser across the room. Touches of a woman were sprinkled across the room, though I knew it was the touch of his mother or Polly rather than a woman my age. As I went to sit on the bed, I peered into the open drawer of the nightstand. My heart sank at the sight of the opium pipe next to a pack of cigarettes.

So I was not the only one with the nightmares chasing me.

Suddenly, I felt terribly uncomfortable as I sat in the room alone, waiting for Thomas Shelby to appear.

What was I doing?

I sighed, realizing that I did not know much about the man that I have come to love. Despite last night and our confessions of the past, there was still so much left unknown between us.

What did I really know about Thomas Shelby?

He is a gangster. Former soldier. War hero. He lost his first love before the war. He is the man who ran Birmingham.

And who was I?

Former...current gangster? Former wartime nurse. Barmaid? Widow. The woman who helped run Chicago.

Were we a good match?

This was even more difficult to determine.

In our short time together, we had always seemed to protect each other, in our own ways. We loved each other, even though it wasn't logical.

We would have to be a good match. There was no turning back.

The last twenty four hours spun around in my head. Yesterday, I went from avoiding Thomas Shelby like the plague to murdering a man in cold blood for him. In the wee hours of the morning, we declared our love for one another and made love. Then later in the day, we survived a hand grenade from blowing us to bits.

Was there no in between for us? Was it going to be love on the edge of death or nothing at all?

I reached into his nightstand drawer, grabbing the pack of cigarettes that lay beside his opium pipe. I struck a match, as I closed my eyes to inhale the cigarette smoke to clear my head.

When I was deep in thought alone, I always needed to close my eyes to stay in my head to process the storm that was swirling around.

In an earlier life, I would go to David to discuss the problems that arose in business and life. He would calm my thoughts, guiding me through the turmoil.

After his death, I could only think of what David would have thought or what he would advise from my short time with him. I had to conjure his voice to work through it all.

As I lit another cigarette, I wondered what David would think of this huge change in my life. I wondered what he would think about my involvement with the Peaky Blinders. I wondered what he thought of me loving another person again. I wondered if he would approve...

As I opened my eyes to snuff out the lit cherry at the end of the dwindled cigarette, I saw Tommy standing in the doorway. I wondered how long he had been standing there, watching me.

He closed the door, striding over to me to sit on the bed. I smiled at him, weakly.

Although we both knew that I had been through so much more...we had been through so much more...he still took me into his arms, asking if I was alright.

I nodded into his chest.

Despite logic and the thoughts swirling in my head, I was alright.

With Tommy, I would always be alright.

I was sure of it.


	14. A Dying Promise: Part Fourteen

Author's Note: I am so sorry for the delay in my update. After two weeks, I finally have internet at my residence in Poland. Hopefully, I will be updating more often now that I have internet and I have gotten used to the pace of my studies.

Thank you so much to all of the wonderful people who have favorited and followed this story so far. It means the world to me! Thank you to guest and Leeau for the reviews.

Enjoy! xx A

* * *

As he held Antonina in his arms, Tommy Shelby was uncharacteristically nervous about how she was dealing with everything. Despite the fact that she had been exposed to this life before, and she arguably thrived in it, he still worried that this would all be too much for her. He finally had her as his own and the world seemed to be chaos around them.

Would there ever be calm for either Antonina Casey or Thomas Shelby?

Pressing his nose into her hair, he let himself think about the events of the day.

Following the incident at the house, he wanted to confront whatever the Lees had left for him alone. He had always taken care of these things alone, only consulting the family in the aftermath of whatever storm he weathered or after he figured out how to contain the storm if it was too much for him alone.

With Antonina, this dynamic seemed to change in an instant.

Interrupting his solo quest to fix the damage done, Antonina had followed him, inquiring why he did not tell her about the Lees.

For the first time, he wanted her to leave him alone and be away from him. It was not the time to talk about this. Antonina was so stubborn and he knew that she would not relent until she had the truth. All of it.

When she took his face in her hands, his cold exterior melted slightly and he relented a small bit of control, agreeing to talk about the situation later.

Following the incident with the grenade, Tommy had been so afraid in that moment for Antonina and Finn. When he threw the grenade, he rushed to them to shield them with his body. It only registered in his mind after the fact that Antonina had already been shielding Finn with her body. She was already protecting his family like her own. The unexpected emotion that he felt over it only confirmed how much she meant to him.

When they returned to the home, he asked her to wait upstairs in his room while he went to go talk to Pol about the events of the last day.

Tommy lit a cigarette as he approached Polly at the kitchen table. She motioned for him to join her at the table where she was drinking a glass of whiskey. He grabbed a glass off the counter, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. They sat in silence for a moment, before Polly finally spoke.

"So you and Antonina," Polly said, as she lit a cigarette. Tommy simply nodded. There was nothing more to be said of it. It was expected. Polly nodded in approval.

"Are you going to tell me about the bruises and cuts all over your faces?" Polly asked, tipping her head to examine Tommy's face. He took a drag of his cigarette before responding.

"We had trouble at The Garrison over the guns, Pol. Two IRA men came to buy the guns off of me. I had a deal with the coppers for them to be taken in alive. The men planned to kill me afterwards. Antonina hid in the backroom. On my cue, she came out with a gun drawn, but she shot the one holding a gun to me head. Shot 'em between the eyes. I grappled with the other before killin' 'em. Antonina took a nasty blow to the head, but she's alright," Tommy explained, as he lit another cigarette to replace the dwindled one. Polly simply nodded at the news, as if it were normal that a barmaid killed someone on the first shot. Tommy tipped his head, studying Polly. The realization dawned on him.

"You knew about Antonina."

"It wasn't my news to tell, Tom," Polly said. Tommy nodded, pausing a minute before he continued.

"I have asked her to join me in the family business."

"I assumed, since she was at the family meeting today."

"What do you think about it, Pol?"

Polly paused momentarily as she lit a cigarette, inhaling and exhaling the smoke before answering.

"Antonina is family, Tom. Especially after all that she has done for this family. You need to make sure that you take care of her. She loves you. If you get her up the duff, you better be prepared to make an honest woman of her," Polly warned, as she sipped her whiskey. Tommy nodded, giving nothing away as he inhaled a drag of the cigarette.

"I am also plannin' on askin' her to move in here. I don't want her sleepin' alone at The Garrison after what happened."

"I wouldn't expect anything less, Tommy. It will be nice to have another woman around," Polly said, smiling. Polly had grown rather fond of Antonina, as if she were like a surrogate daughter.

After they moved the conversation to discussing the business with the Lees, Tommy's mind spun as he walked up the stairs to his room. Soon, the room would be theirs.

As he quietly opened the door, he saw Antonina laying on the bed with a cigarette in hand and a distressed look on her face. She seemed to be processing the events of the day, troubled. He wanted to hold her and reassure her that it would be alright. But how could he, when the Lees wanted him dead? What if the business began to threaten her? He had promised to keep her safe.

As her hazel eyes found his, she smiled weakly at him. He strode to her, taking her into his arms.

Despite it all, he felt that this was the place he needed to be. With her, in his arms.

* * *

Although I never wanted to move away from Tommy's embrace, I knew that we needed to talk about everything that had happened within the last day. We needed to discuss everything that was going on if I would continue to do this with him.

I leaned back from him, taking another cigarette and lighting it. The lighting of the cigarette symbolized that it was time for business, to face whatever chaos followed Thomas Shelby around.

"Tommy, we need to talk about all of this."

Tommy sighed, lighting a cigarette of his own.

"What do you want to know, Toni?"

"Everything."

He rolled his eyes at the expected answer and then he smiled, breaking the tension in the air. I began to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Of course, I would want to know everything.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Whatever comes first."

He nodded, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette.

"As you know Toni, we have the guns that the coppers are looking for. I have them buried in a safe location that they would never suspect-"

"How safe?"

He paused for a moment, trying to decide if he should tell me the exact location of the guns. I sensed his apprehension, understanding where he was coming from.

"You don't have to tell me, Tom-"

"They are buried in the grave of Danny Whizzbang."

I recoiled, processing what he had just told me. The word on the street was that Danny Whizzbang was dead. I realized in that moment how much he trusted me. How far we had come.

"But he's dead. You shot him."

He shook his head. He explained to me what had really happened and I laughed at the ingenuity of his plans.

"You're a fuckin' genius, Tom."

Tommy laughed, as he took the compliment in stride.

"Alright, what's next Antonina?"

"The Lees."

"Right, that is the rest of it then. I provoked the Lee family with a plan in mind. I planned to get close to Billy Kimber under the pretense that the Lee family wanted me dead-"

"Tom, it isn't a pretense if it is true."

He looked at me with annoyance and I threw up my hands, willing him to continue.

"It will be a pretense after I gain a truce with them."

Now it was my turn to be annoyed at him. A bullet with his name on it and a hand grenade were not solid beginnings to a truce.

"And how do you plan to do that Tom?"

"I have an idea."

I raised my eyebrows. His ideas seemed to end well, although the journey between point A and point B were a shitshow.

"Really?"

"I am going to forge our families together."

I nearly choked on the air surrounding us. For a moment, I had the irrational fear that Tommy was going to betroth himself to another woman.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I plan to marry John to one of the Lee family members."

I started to laugh, thinking that he was joking. I think that I was also laughing, because of the sheer relief that I felt. When his face remained stoic through my laughter, I realized that he was serious. I stopped laughing, stubbing out my cigarette. I needed to focus on the absurdity of his idea without smoking any more cigarettes. A first for me. For such an intelligent man, he seemed to have no common sense when it came to matters of the heart.

"Tommy...John plans to marry Lizzie Stark. You're an intelligent man. How do you plan to persuade him to break off his engagement with the woman he loves and agree to this?"

Tommy sighed, breaking my gaze. He looked down at his hands. Suddenly, he seemed nervous. A sick feeling in my stomach began to form at the change in the atmosphere in the room. I began to place the pieces together in my head. How he knew about her profession. How he seemed to be vehemently opposed to the idea of John marrying her. It all made sense.

"You are one of Lizzie's customers."

His head snapped up, his eyes frantically searching mine for my feelings on the subject. It took him a moment to reply to me.

"Was."

I nodded, processing the information. I gave nothing away. I didn't know how I felt in the moment. Despite the logic, I was angry. Of course, Tommy Shelby had been with more women than just Greta and me. I had no reason to be angry, although I did feel a bit jealous about it all. This was a big mess indeed. As I mulled over his words, I began to grow angrier. In fact, thinking about how Tommy was using John to settle the feud, I became furious. It reminded me of how my family dealt with me.

"You need to tell him about Lizzie, Tommy. But you need to do it because you care about his happiness. Not because he is a pawn in your fuckin' greater chess game," I said, the anger lacing with my final words. Although I knew my words dripped with venom, Tommy's gaze did not waver. He put his hands around my arms, looking into my eyes with an indiscernible look. I knew that I had stepped over the line, but I did not care. He did not seem shaken, though. After analyzing my gaze, he spoke.

"John is not a pawn, Toni. I want him to be happy and fix two problems in one. Call it efficiency. If John did not want to break off his engagement with Lizzie, I would not force him to marry a Lee. We are not like the Paltrowicz Enterprise, Toni. We are family. But I know my brother. Trust me," he said, his words soothing me. I rested my forehead against his head, closing my eyes before opening them again. I needed to return to the moment. When I spoke, my voice had returned to normal.

"Alright, okay I am sorry…...How are you going to tell John about Lizzie, Tom?"

"I have a plan. Say what you will, but I am going to test Lizzie," he began. I shook my head, closing my eyes in displeasure. When I opened them, his gaze softened. He sighed.

"I will make you a deal, Toni. If she passes, I will drop the marriage business with the Lees and find another way. If she fails, I will let my brother know and it will be up to his discretion."

I nodded, mollified for the moment.

"Do what you need to do then. How do you plan to enter the Lee Camp safely?" I asked, wanting to know how he planned to fix this mess.

"I have contacts, Toni."

I nodded again, my hand moving to his face.

"Is that all the business you have then?" I ask, brushing my fingers against his beautiful, chiseled cheekbone. He shook his head and I laughed, despite the complexity of everything we had just talked about. Of course, he wasn't done. There was always more with Thomas Shelby.

"I want you to move in here. With me."

Of all the things that he could have said, this was the one thing that I thought would never come out of his mouth at this time.

The words left my mouth before I even registered that I said them.

"No."

He recoiled from my touch as soon as he processed what I had said. I sighed, attempting to salvage the situation. Despite the fact that Tommy was the king of Small Health, I knew that my refusal would wound his heart, not his ego. I took his face in my hands again.

"Tommy, I want to be with you, in your bed, every night. There is nowhere else I would rather be. You have to understand that this is a lot, even for me, all at once. We went from me being furious with you and avoiding you to the two of us killing two Fenians together. Then the two of us declared our love for one another, before being threatened with death by grenade. Now you ask me to move in with you. All within twenty four hours. You are only asking me to move in, because you are afraid that something will happen to me. I can take care of myself, Tom," I said, softly. Although trouble always seemed to find me, I could protect myself. Even when I couldn't, I found a way to survive.

"All the more reason that you stay here, Antonina. I need to protect you. I cannot do that if you sleep by yourself in that small room of yours. I would never be able to sleep. We can send someone to bring all of your stuff here. I need you safe. _Antonina Urszula Casey, I love you._ Please. I don't hear the shovels when you're here," he said, pressing his forehead into mine. My heart broke at the confession at the end of his plea.

I sighed, closing my eyes for several minutes. To his credit, he let me live inside my head as I thought through it all for several long minutes. When I opened them, his blue eyes waited patiently for my reply. Against all logic, I responded with an answer.

"Okay, Tom. But I want to fetch my own items. You can send an escort if it makes you feel better, alright?"

His face broke into a smile and he unexpectedly picked me up, hugging me. I laughed, as the action was very uncharacteristic of Thomas Shelby.

"I will make room in the wardrobe for your items. We can buy some items to make the room to your liking, Toni."

"Tom, as long as you are here, it is home to me," I said, kissing him. He returned the kiss passionately.

"We never did finish what we started this mornin'," he said, as he began to trail kisses down my throat. Involuntarily, I moaned. I tangled my fingers in his hair, as I brought my lips to his.

Tommy moved me to lay flat onto the bed, his body laying down on mine.

We continued where we left off that morning.

* * *

After finding our mutual release, Tommy pulled me into his lap facing away from him. He moved to lay his head in the curve of my shoulder and neck, planting soft kisses on the back of my neck where my scars lay before he laid his head down. I closed my eyes to will the tears away, relishing in the sweetness of his actions. We sat there for minutes in silence, enjoying each other's company and the moment. It was pure bliss to be like this, held in his arms. I loved to see the soft side of Tommy. It made me go softer in turn.

"Antonina?"

"Mmmm Tommy?" I mused dreamily, nearly asleep in the safety of his arms.

"Do you ever see yourself getting married again?"

At the mention of marriage, my eyes fluttered open. I was careful not to make any sudden movements to alarm Tommy. Initially after the death of David, I hadn't thought about the possibility of being married again. It did not seem possible to even love again.

Until I began to fall for Tommy.

When I first began to daydream in The Garrison, I would banish the thoughts away immediately. As the time grew, the more and more they came.

Now, I began to envision myself in a beautiful, maroon dress, marrying him in front of our friends. I would be _Antonina Urszula Shelby._ The thought made me smile.

I could imagine helping him run the business. Our children would want for nothing. They would have the most protective, loving, eclectic father and protective family. The display on the street earlier with Finn, would be a reality with our children. Hopefully without grenades and the threat of death.

Smiling, I turned around to face him.

"Why do you ask, Tom?"

He struck a match, lighting his cigarette. He shrugged, leaving his curiosity open for interpretation, but the gaze in his eyes told me everything that I needed to know. He had thought about it with me. My heart began to swell with joy. I decided to stop playing games and answering truthfully.

"Yes, I do."

Tommy inhaled a draw of his cigarette, exhaling. He put the cigarette up to my lips to inhale. I took the cigarette from my lips. He struck another one for himself. I decided to take the plunge and ask him what he thought about it.

"What about you, Tom?"

He looked into my eyes, his deep blue irises gazing at me so intensely that I felt that he could see every part of my soul.

"Why do you ask, Toni?"

I felt a smirk break across my face as I shrugged, attempting to mirror his previous response. Taking the cigarette from my hand, he placed it into the ashtray. Taking my face in his hands, he kissed me passionately before answering my question.

"To someone like you, Toni, I do."

Feeling as if my body was on fire and Tommy Shelby was the only thing in the world that could douse that fire, I pressed myself into him and I pushed him onto the bed.

We chased the waning hours of the night in his bed.


	15. A Dying Promise: Part Fifteen

The next morning, I awoke later than I had intended to an empty bed. Absentmindedly, I touched the bed to check how long it had been since a body had occupied it. The cold sheets told me that Tommy had risen much earlier this morning. Sitting up, I looked to the nightstand to see a note from Tommy with a pack of cigarettes and lighter for me.

"Dearest Toni,

I left early to take care of business. I set out an old dress of Ada's for you in the wardrobe. Take some of the boys with you to get your items before your shift tonight.

All my love,

Tommy"

As I lay the note down on the nightstand, I smiled to myself. I could get used to these moments, waking up to notes in Thomas Shelby's bed. Realizing that I needed to get a move on, I lit a cigarette and walked to the wardrobe.

As I opened the wardrobe, I saw a green colored dress with cream accents hanging in the middle of the large furniture. It was beautiful, with material more rich than all of my current dresses combined.

I stepped into the hallway, careful to dart into the washroom unseen in my shift. After I bathed, I quickly changed into the dress, heading down the stairs.

As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I saw Finn sitting at the kitchen table. When he met my eye, he smiled with such innocence and earnest that it reminded me of when my brother, Mikołaj, was younger. I felt the familiar longing for my family, allowing the wave of emotion to pass as quickly as it had come.

"Good mornin' Toni!" he said, smiling largely at me.

"Good mornin' Finn, why are you not at school?" I asked him. He shrugged. I realized that the house was rather quiet.

"Where is everyone?" I asked him.

"Dunno, Polly left a bit ago to find Freddie Thorne," he said, as he bit into an apple.

"Ah, okay thank you. And Finn?"

"Yeah, Toni?"

"Go to school," I said, chucking as I ruffled his hair. He smiled.

After I bid Finn goodbye, I walked to The Garrison to pack my belongings before my shift. I decided against bothering any of the boys to get my items, as I knew that I had very little for them to transport.

I lit a cigarette, as I walked down the street. It was a beautiful day in Small Heath. I enjoyed the walk to The Garrison, reveling in the sunlight.

"Excuse me, _Miss Paltrowicz_?"

As soon as I heard my former name in the thick, sniveling Belfast accent, I whipped my head around. My line of vision arrived on Inspector Chester Campbell.

Immediately, I regretted walking to The Garrison alone. I was easy prey.

I stood my ground, tipping my head to him as I inhaled a long draw of my cigarette. If he wanted something from me, he needed to come to me. A minute passed as we both stood in our silent stand-off, regarding one another. Finally, he began to walk towards me with a sick smile on his face.

As he meandered over to me, I felt an ill at ease feeling take hold of my stomach. Mentally, I began to prepare myself for his line of questioning. I knew that it would have to do with Tommy and the stolen guns. I stood up straighter for good measure: I would not be intimidated by copper scum.

"It is Casey. Antonina Casey," I said, correcting him as soon as he came within earshot.

"Apologies, _Miss Casey_ ," he mused, as he drew out each letter of my name. His gaze went up and down my body, making bile rise in my throat. I swallowed.

"What can I do for you, _Inspector Campbell_?" I asked, returning his greeting with malice dripping from each syllable of his name.

"I was hopin' to talk to you about Thomas Shelby. My sources tell me that you're his woman now," he said, as he lit his pipe. 'What sources?' I thought to myself.

"I am my own woman, but I am going with him if that's what you mean," I said, as I lit another cigarette in response. He nodded, appearing to mull over his words.

"So you're his whore," he said, as he looked me over once more. I felt my good mood slip further and further away from the moment. I did not have time for this.

This conversation should have been over before it even began. I wouldn't allow him to talk to me like this.

"This conversation is over, Inspector Campbell. Good day."

As I turned to walk away from him, he grabbed my wrist, locking his disgusting hand around it. I tried to twist out of his grasp, but his hand clamped down harder and tighter on my wrist. If I struggled more, I would bruise. Then, we would have a war on our hands.

For Tommy's sake, I relaxed. Inspector Campbell's grip loosened, though he continued to hold my wrist.

"It would be in your best interests to talk to me before I talk to some folks who are interested in your past, _Miss Antonina Paltrowicz_ ," he said. As he held my wrist, he began to caress my skin. His touch made me feel ill once more.

The words came out before I even processed the severity of his threat.

"Get your fuckin' hands off me, you fuckin' scum."

"Aye, is that any way to talk to the chief inspector of the town? Especially one that you want to mollify?"

Although his words came out smoothly, the menace dripped through every single word.

For many minutes, we stared at one another. I made sure to hold his gaze the entire time, my deathly glare never wavering. I continued to smoke my cigarette, blowing the smoke in his face. It felt like my heart was beating in my eardrums. I needed to act quickly.

I chose my words carefully, before continuing. Despite the fact that I knew he couldn't do much in the moment, the threat hung over my head like a noose on a man ready to be hung at the gallows.

He would not let me forget that he knew my secret. I would have to play nice for the moment.

"What do you want, Inspector? I have business to attend to."

Finally, he let go of my wrist, beginning to smoke his own pipe again.

"I was hoping that we could come to some kind of deal, Ms. Casey."

I looked at him, raising my eyebrows. This had to be interesting.

"You see, I think that you know the location of something that I want. Something that I need."

 _The guns._

I turned to look at the inspector, keeping my face blank. I furrowed my brow in innocence.

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about, Inspector. Unless you are interested in the alcohol at The Garrison, I likely have no knowledge that will be of service to you."

He looked at me, taking a step towards me. He studied my gaze. I made sure to keep my eyes doe-like. Innocent.

"If that is true, it would be good to remember that you are obligated to report such criminal activity to me at once."

"I am familiar with the law, but someone like me wouldn't know anything about such matters with other families' businesses, Inspector Campbell. I assure you. After all, I am just Thomas Shelby's whore, aren't I?"

Seeing that I would not oblige his wishes, he walked towards me, caressing my face. I moved my cheek away, in disgust.

"You know for a beautiful, intelligent, and _manipulative_ woman, you would be of great value to the Crown. It would be a pity to see you hang or even worse, return to your family in America after I have what I want."

As much as I wanted to shiver, I didn't budge. For the first time in a long time, death was something that I wanted to avoid entirely. I did not want to return to Chicago. I did not want to leave Tommy. Trying to remember what little information I knew of him, I found something to use against him to get away for the time being.

"Unlike you, I served time in France as a nursing volunteer. Something that many people look highly upon here, as you know. My family are a band of criminals. I have not been accused of any crimes, Inspector. It would be good of you to remember that."

He dropped his step backwards, silence ringing between us. He licked his lips, smirking at me. He was indicating that I had won this time.

This was no victory. Inside, I knew that he was a dangerous man. This was not over.

Sensing that he would let me go this time, I moved away from him. I bid him good day, despite wanting to slice him where he stood. I could not provoke him. I had a real target on my back now.

I felt his eyes following me as I walked towards The Garrison. I could not walk away fast enough.

* * *

When I entered The Garrison, I went straight to the backroom to find Arthur. As soon as I entered the room, I saw Grace sitting with him looking over the books. She was asking him questions about the figures and the recipients of money. Arthur's gaze turned towards me and he took in my ashen face. He mistakenly took my look for disapproval at Grace's questions, because suddenly, he looked to Grace, telling her not to ask more questions than she needed to. As a blush came to her cheeks, he thanked her before he dismissed her from the room. As she caught my eye, her eyebrows raised at my pale face.

I closed the door, sitting beside Arthur at the desk. For a few moments, I did not speak. I took the whiskey from his desk, taking several swigs. Lighting my cigarette, I turned to him. I could not figure out how to get the words out. We sat in silence for another moment, until he asked me what was eatin' me alive.

It was now or never.

"Arthur, do you know who I am?"

Puzzled, he raised his eyebrows at me as if I had asked the most stupid question in the world.

"Aye, poppit, you're Antonina Casey."

I shook my head. His eyebrows raised.

Sighing, I lowered my voice to a whisper, my words coming out quickly.

"I used to be Antonina Paltrowicz, from the Paltrowicz Enterprise in Chicago. They run Chicago like your family runs Birmingham. If they find out where I live, they will kill me."

His eyes widened at my words, as he took the whiskey and swallowed it.

"Fuck. Well love, we will protect you. Does Tommy know?"

"Yes, he knows. Now I need your help. The copper has this information on me. He threatened me with it if I did not disclose something that I have no idea about. I don't know what to do."

I left my words intentionally vague, in the event that Grace Burgess was eavesdropping. I mouthed the words at him to indicate that I did know about what they were looking for. Arthur nodded.

"I need to find Tommy. Where is Tommy, Arthur?"

"I don't know. He had to take care of some things with the Lees and John, as far as I know, love."

I sighed, looking at the clock that stood in the room. There were still many hours before I knew he would be done with the day. I hated that I had become a woman waiting on a man to finish his business.

"If you see him, tell him that I need to talk to him right away. I also need another favor."

"Anything for you, love."

"Can you or some of the boys escort me back to the house before my shift this afternoon? I don't want another encounter with that Inspector scum. He touched me," I said, blanching at the memory.

"He fuckin' WHAT! We will kill 'em," Arthur's voice boomed, causing me to drop my cigarette. I picked it up, motioning for him to keep his voice down.

"Don't worry about it now, Arthur. I am alright. I just need to make sure that I am not available again for him to corner me one-on-one."

Arthur nodded, telling me that he would take me himself. He also noted that if he saw the bastard, he'd shoot him dead. I shook my head. A war with the coppers and the crown was something that this family could not afford.

With shaky hands, I went upstairs to pack my meager belongings. I looked around the small room that had been my safe haven for these past few months. I could not shake the feeling that I would not be seeing this room for a long time, which left a deeper sinking feeling in my stomach. Chocking it up to the leftover nerves from the meeting with the inspector, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the day ahead.

* * *

Time seemed to pass by painfully slower than usual during my shift at The Garrison. Harry had left me alone during the shift, as he had some business to take care of. Ever since the Shelbys had purchased his pub, I felt that his personal investment in the pub was waning. Soon, I suspected that he would leave Birmingham for something else. The thought only elevated my sour mood from the day's previous events.

Suddenly, the loud shattering of glass ripped me from my thoughts. I looked up to see that two of the pub's patrons had begun to fight for whatever petty reason. Sighing, I yelled at them that if they wanted to fight, they needed to take it outside. Ignoring my demand, they began to topple over tables, spilling drinks on other patrons. Shouting began, as more men threatened to join in the fight. I knew that time was limited to control the situation. I could not maintain an entire pub fighting without using force: something that I would never do to the members of The Garrison. I could either sing, charming my way to peace, or I could physically intervene between the two men to stop them. My sour mood made me choose the latter, as I was in no mood to sing like some silly barmaid.

I strode over to the two men, attempting to grab one by the arm to pull him back and wedge myself between them. Likely mistaking my harsh grab as a man's, I was hit across the face. I went down like a lead balloon, swearing loudly. I landed face down. I contemplated just laying there until my shift ended.

It felt like this day could not get any worse.

The entire bar grew quiet. Both of the men immediately began to stammer, hovering over me and profusely apologizing. Other pub patrons ran to me, hesitating momentarily whether or not they could touch Thomas Shelby's woman. Finally, two men picked me up, telling me that it wasn't too bad of a bruise. I turned to the two men, who stood by in fear. I walked up to them, sticking my finger in their faces.

"You need to fucking leave. Now."

As soon as I said the words, the two men ran out. I doubted that they would ever frequent The Garrison again. They would likely live in fear for the next few days, waiting for retribution from the Peaky Blinders.

I looked at the mess of glass on the floor and the tables scattered around. I sighed, looking up at the ceiling as if to say "why today," before moving to the back room to grab the broom.

When I returned, all of the tables and chairs were put back into the place by the few men that remained behind. Smiling in gratitude, I nodded at them. One younger man came up to me, offering to sweep while I took care of my cheek. As he spoke, I noticed his voice quivering.

"What's your name?"

"Nicholas Anderson, Ms. Casey."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Anderson. That would be nice for you to help, thank you. I owe you an ale on the house."

As he swept for me, I went to the bar to put a cold glass to my cheek. The bar remained silent, aside from the sound of the broom. It was as if everyone was petrified with fear, wondering whether or not the man of Birmingham would arrive to find out what had happened.

And arrive, he did.

When the doors to the pub opened, I didn't have to look up to know that he had entered. I felt his presence before I even gazed up at him. When he took in the sight of me before him, he ordered everyone to leave. Everyone nearly ran out of the pub in an instant, aside from Nicholas. I nodded at Nicholas that the sweeping was enough. He placed the glass in the rubbish bin next to the bar.

Tommy looked at me quizzically, before I explained that there was an incident and the man was of great assistance during my time of need.

"Thank you for your assistance," Tommy said, handing him ten pounds for his troubles. Nicholas' eyes lit up at the money and my heart strings tugged: this was likely two weeks of pay for him. He quickly left, murmuring his thanks.

After a moment, Tommy strode to me, taking the glass from my hand. His fingers lightly brushed my cheek, where a bruise was likely forming. I felt a longing erupt inside me for more than just this simple touch. His gentle words broke the silence, pulling me from my thoughts of desire.

"Antonina, are you alright? What happened?"

"Two men were brawling in the pub. I broke it up, though it was only after I was on the floor. I should have taken Grace's approach. Not my best idea," I said, trying to joke. Even though I was mad, I didn't want him and the boys to kill them. After all, I know that they did not mean it.

"What's their names?"

"I don't know."

He nodded, taking a cigarette out to light. He handed the cigarette to me, which I gratefully took. As he lit a cigarette for himself, he continued.

"I'll have my men look into it. We will take care of them. A man should never lay his hands on you."

The chilling tone to his words only confirmed my suspicions that they would kill them. Realizing that I had bigger issues, I shook my head. As he began to protest, I stopped him with my hand up.

"We have bigger issues than that, Tommy. The Inspector came to visit me. He knows who I am. He wants information or he'll wire my whereabouts to my family."

I saw the realization sweep across his face about the information that the Inspector likely wanted and what was at stake. I saw the wheels in his head begin to turn, as he placed his hands on the counter. He hung his head, as he continued to smoke. I sighed. This was not ideal.

"If I need to go away-"

His head snapped up and fear gripped his face. My words stuck in my throat.

"No, you will stay here. With me. I'll take care of it, Antonina. Don't worry."

I put my arms around him and I felt his rigid muscles begin to relax against me.

"I know that you will, Tom."

He turned around, taking my face into his hands. He pressed his forehead to mine before leaning in to kiss me. Despite everything that had happened today, I felt that my mood was beginning to rapidly improve. He was my refuge in the storm that was my life

As we broke apart from the kiss, I realized that he had come here for a different reason. Otherwise, he would have known about the Inspector.

"What happened today, Tom?"

He sighed, stepping away from me. When he lit another cigarette, I knew. I knew that whatever test that he had given to Lizzie Stark, she had failed. Despite the fact that he knew that she would, he was disappointed. He was worried to tell John what had transpired.

"She failed your test."

"Yes."

I shook my head, lighting a cigarette of my own. On one hand, he shouldn't have tested her. On the other hand, he was doing what he thought was best for his brother. Interested, I asked him what his next move was.

"What are you going to do?"

"I came here to ask you, Toni."

I couldn't hide the shock that registered on my face. He noticed it, tipping his head to the side as if to ask me why I would be surprised. I felt elation that he trusted me enough to advise him. That my opinion was needed. That he really did want me to help him with matters of life.

He really loved me.

Thinking over his options, I advised him on what would be best for the situation.

"You need to be straightforward with him, Tom. You need not to make it such a big affair, otherwise he may think that you're lying. You need to give him the power to make the decision. You also need to accept whatever decision he may come to. You don't need to tell him that you were one of her customers. You do need to stop visiting her, though. To demand more services from her after what you've done would be cruel."

He took a step towards me, taking my head in his hand.

"Toni, I haven't visited her since-"

He cut himself off. My heart stopped. Did I want to know the answer?

"Since when?"

"Since I met you."


	16. A Dying Promise: Part Sixteen

"Since I met you."

I felt stunned by his admission.

It had been some time between our first meeting and the first time that we had consummated our relationship so shortly ago. Despite my temper, I wouldn't have blamed him if he had seen her anytime before that fateful night, when we killed the two men at The Garrison.

Why did he wait? I had to know.

"Why, Tom?"

His gentle hands caressed my cheeks, as he gazed into my eyes.

"I think that I loved you even then."

As soon as the words processed within my brain, my lips came crashing into his. Although I could tell that he was not expecting such a strong reaction from me as I had knocked him off balance, he quickly placed one of his hands on my hip and his hand tangled in my hair. Soon, he picked me up and set me on the counter.

As he hitched my dress up above my knees, I moaned into his mouth. As he entered me, I felt the fire build between us more and more.

Truth be told, I should have cared that anyone could have walked in on us at any moment. But as the time melted away, all that was left in the world of importance were Tommy and me.

* * *

As Tommy left The Garrison, the events of the day came flooding back to him.

When Lizzie Stark had taken the money in exchange for one more time together, Tommy Shelby felt a surprising amount of disappointment by her actions. Although he did not want to admit it to Antonina, he had also felt pleased that the opportunity had arisen to end the feud with the Lee family. He knew that John would not go through with his marriage to Lizzie when he found out that she had accepted the money in exchange for sex. He was troubled on how to tell his brother though. He realized that he needed Antonina's guidance.

When he arrived at The Garrison to see broken glass everywhere, he had a moment of fear grip him that something terrible had happened to Antonina. When he saw that she held a glass to her cheek, he could barely contain his rage and simultaneous relief that while something _did_ happen, she was safe. Once he learned that it was a fight in the pub that caused her injury, he felt that he could breathe again. This was something that he could fix in a near instant.

Just a moment later, his relief was dashed away by the words that took his breath away. It made him scramble for a new plan.

"We have bigger issues than that, Tommy. The Inspector came to visit me. He knows who I am. He wants information or he'll wire my whereabouts to my family."

"...he'll wire my whereabouts to my family."

These words kept ringing in his head as he made his way to the clandestine meeting between himself and Inspector Campbell.

As the clock struck eleven p.m. at St. Andrews cathedral, a solitary figure made his way out of the dark Birmingham mist into the alley where Tommy was standing near The Garrison pub. As Inspector Campbell made his way to him, Tommy lit a cigarette. He had to secure safety for three people: his sister Ada, her husband Freddie Thorne, and Antonina. He knew that the inspector had much to parley with. Tommy was unsure that what he had was enough to bargain with in exchange for his loved ones' safety. As they stood silently for a moment, Inspector Campbell was the first one to speak.

"Your message said you have an address for me."

"Anonymous tip off. The address of Stanley Chapman."

"You promised me Freddie Thorne."

"This is instead of Freddie Thorne."

"No deal."

Tommy knew that he had to entice the inspector somehow. Something that he hated even more than Fenians and criminals: Communists.

"Inspector, Stanley Chapman is a bigger fish than Freddie Thorne. He is currently holding two hundred pounds in cash, given to the Communist party by the Russian government."

The Inspector was becoming easier and easier to read for Tommy. As Inspector Campbell's eyebrows raised, Tommy continued to speak.

"That's right, Chapman has snow on his boots and all you'll need is a shovel. If he talks, you'll have proof. You might even get that medal. Now before I give you the address, I want your word, that you will let Freddie Thorne and my sister leave the city. I also need you to let Antonina Paltrowicz-Casey live in peace in the city. She has committed no crimes. She has no reason to be caught up in this."

"So Ms. Paltrowicz does know about the guns," the Inspector said, lighting his pipe. A sick smirk began to etch across his face. As it did, Tommy felt a surge of murderous rage, controlling it before he answered. He had to get this right.

"She does not. Only I know where the guns are, Inspector. Do I have your word in exchange for this address?"

It felt as if a lifetime had passed before the Inspector spoke.

"Very well, you have my word."

As soon as he spoke, Tommy felt an immediate, immense relief, though he could not show it. He could not let the Inspector capitalize upon his weaknesses further.

"I'd say our little truce is proving productive for both of us, Inspector. I get the information and protection and you, well...you get Bolsheviks."

The Inspector continued to smoke his pipe, looking Tommy over. He answered Tommy a moment later, his trademark smirk returning.

Tommy knew at once what was going to arise: the parley was not over.

The conversation began to take on a different tone.

"But on a more pressing matter," the Inspector began to say, while lighting his pipe. Soon he began to speak again.

"I'm afraid Mr. Churchill is becoming impatient. I fear that if you don't give back those stolen weapons soon, I will be replaced. That would be the finish of me, that's for sure."

Tommy interrupted him, telling him that once his business with Billy Kimber was finished, the guns would be returned.

The Inspector nodded, before delivering a final warning to Tommy.

"But I hope to God that my dismissal doesn't come before your decision to hand back those guns. I say this for your sake, because-"

The Inspector stopped speaking momentarily, menacingly stepping towards Tommy before continuing.

"I would do things that would shame the devil. My fury is a thing to behold. On my last day in power, for example, I would see to it that you and your scum brothers have your heads stoved in with mallets and spades. Your sister too. That baby inside her would be of no consequence to me. The only one to be spared would be your little brother Finn. He would however be lifted as a juvenile and dumped into that part of the adult prison where men have the most appetite for boys like him. I would save the best for last for you: Antonina would be jailed until her family could arrive from Chicago to retrieve her. They will be happy to have her back in their custody. I am sure they can continue where they left off. They will take it slow. That would be a dark day indeed, My. Shelby, if my dismissal comes before your decision to return the guns."

Tommy was silent, as the anger seethed through him. The Inspector had threatened everything that he loved in just a moment. All of his biggest fears confirmed.

Taking his silence for compliance, the Inspector continued before turning to leave.

"Do you understand, Mr. Shelby? And know this: the clock is ticking."

As Inspector Campbell retreated down the alleyway, Tommy held his gun aimed towards the inspector's back. There were so many parts of Tommy that wanted to squeeze the trigger. However, each time that he was close to squeezing the trigger, he heard Antonina's voice in his head telling him not to. He lowered the weapon, taking a deep breath of resignation into his lungs. He need to go home to his refuge, the calm to his storm. He needed to see Antonina.

It was half past midnight as Tommy walked up the steps to their bedroom on Watery Lane. He tried not to make too much noise as the old wooden bedroom door creaked open. The room was dimly lit, as one candle was burnt halfway down the cylinder on the nightstand. As he took in the scene before him, he smiled to himself.

Antonina had fallen asleep reading a book in the bed. She looked so tranquil as her soft wavy hair had fallen over her face. It was as if she were a whole new person when she slept. Although he loved to see her calculated business side at work, he also loved to see her like this in his bed, asleep with a book on her chest.

After picking up the book off her chest carefully, he looked at the title to see that it was a Polish work. _Pan Tadeusz._ He looked at the title for a moment, wondering if she could read in all three of her languages. The thought was peculiar to him, as he realized that he didn't know much about Antonina's upbringing aside from her family's business and their cruelty towards her. Feeling the fatigue creep up on him, he set the book on the nightstand, accidentally knocking a pack of matches to the floor as he did. Immediately, Antonina set up. As she did, her right hand gripped a knife, ready to find its target.

Despite the fact that this would have sent anyone else into a panic, he chuckled to himself.

That is what he loved about her. She had a fire inside her that was unlike anything he had ever witnessed.

* * *

A small crash had awaken me from a peaceful sleep.

As I immediately sprang up ready to cut whoever had intruded into the room, I heard a beautiful chuckle. My eyes began to focus on a male figure in the room. As the grogginess quickly slipped from my eyes, I realized that it was Tommy.

Momentarily, I felt ashamed. Old habits die hard. I needed to stop sleeping with a knife in our bed. I could have killed him.

And yet, he was laughing about the situation.

Sullenly, I threw the knife on the ground, before muttering, "It isn't funny, Tom, I could have killed you."

"Really? I would love to see that," he said, as he sat on the bed. He warmly took me into his arms, even though I had a huge scowl on my face. As his beautiful blue irises gazed into mine, I felt my face relax. When he kissed me, I forgave him for laughing at me.

He always did know how to woo me.

When we broke apart from the kiss, he held me in his arms, sitting up in the bed. He struck a match to light a cigarette for me, before lighting his own. He broke apart the silence.

"How was your night, Toni?"

"After you left The Garrison, it was painfully boring and quiet. Everyone was too afraid to come in, so I decided to close a little early. I hope that you don't mind," I said, as an afterthought.

He shook his head, taking a drag off of his cigarette. It was quiet for a moment, before I sensed some residual tension left in Tommy's muscles.

"How was your night, Tom?"

Tommy continued to smoke his cigarette, muttering that the evening was fine. His clipped tone immediately gained my attention.

Turning around, I sat up, taking the cigarette from between his lips. I studied his face, before speaking.

"I think that you are lying, Thomas Shelby."

He sighed, looking away before returning my gaze. I raised my eyebrows at him, patiently waiting for him to explain. He finally caved, explaining to me what was the issue.

"I met with the Inspector. It seems that I have made a deal to keep you, Ada, and Freddie safe for the time bein'."

I nodded, examining his face before pressing the subject further.

"And you are unhappy because?"

"It is time contingent. If he is dismissed before I give 'em the guns, he will kill my entire family and return you to yours."

I couldn't help, but shutter. As I did, he took me in his arms. My face was pressed to his chest and I closed my eyes to focus on his heartbeat. My talisman.

"I'm not going to let that happen, Toni. I would send you away before such a thing happened."

What should have given me peace made my breath hitch in my chest. I said nothing as I envisioned a life without Tommy. What good was life without him? Would I ever be safe in this life? Feeling my muscles tense, he tipped my head up with his hand. As his eyes searched mine, I could see the fearful expression that my eyes held mirrored in his blue irises.

"Toni?"

"I would not leave you if that happened."

He shook his head.

"Toni, if it came to your safety-"

Exasperated, I interrupted him, feeling the fire inside my chest.

"I said no, goddamnit. I am not fucking leaving you, even if it means what it fuckin' means."

Despite the gravity of the conversation and the tension between us, he laughed at the vulgarity of my response. When he laughed, I knew that it was a rarity in this world. The sound of his laughter made the edges of my lips tug into a small smile.

"You 'ave such a way with words, Antonina."

"I believe that I have been told that a time or two," I said, laughing. I felt the tension evaporate from the room. Almost immediately, I began to feel the fatigue of being woken up mid-sleep come upon me. Tommy seemed to sense it, as he broke the brief silence.

"Before we fall asleep, Toni, I need you to do some business for me tomorrow."

Finally, we were getting somewhere. He was trusting me enough to actually conduct business.

"Anything, what do you need me to do?"

"I need you to go see Ada tomorrow."

I sighed, realizing that this was something that I could not do.

"Tom, I don't know where she lives. I have not seen her in a long time."

"I know. No one does. She is hiding from me. I am told she goes to a bathhouse on Montague Street on women only days. She goes in disguise, so I need to get someone inside. Someone that I can trust."

I nodded, asking him what he needed me to get to her.

"An invitation to a family occasion. I want her to be there, so please tell her that there will be a truce."

Thinking about the current situation between Tommy and Ada, I realized that I needed to make sure that I was not setting up Ada for a trap to be taken by him. I would not set up my friend, even for the man that I loved.

"Do I have your word that there will be a truce? She and Freddie will be safe to come to whatever it is?"

His eyes softened, as if he were wounded that I would think any less of him.

"Of course, Antonina. You have my word."

I nodded to him, indicating that I would complete the task. He untied himself from me, as he began to undress down to his underclothes. As he blew out the candle and slipped into the bed beside me, I wondered if I was invited to said occasion. I wondered what the occasion was.

"Am I invited to this family occasion?" I asked him, as his arms pulled me into him.

After I asked the question, I could feel him rolling his eyes at me.

"Do you have a dress?" he asked, sarcasm dripping with each word. I laughed, as the familiarity of the phrase was not lost on me.

"Yes."

"Then, yes."

With a smile on my face, I quickly fell into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Walking down Montague street with the invitation in hand and a cigarette in the other, it briefly brought me back to my first day in the city. I smiled to myself at the memory, as I flicked the cigarette onto the street before entering the bathhouse. So much had changed since that fateful, January day. I was a whole new person now, compared to my early days in Birmingham. I felt whole again.

As I entered the bathhouse, a woman who had just begun to leave caught my eye. Although her hat was pulled down over her eyes, the pregnancy bump gave her away: it was my long lost friend, Ada.

Nearly immediately, I turned around, ignoring the attendant that had begun to greet me. As Ada exited, I followed her outside.

"Excuse me, miss, may I have a word?"

My question startled her and she stopped in her tracks. As she turned around, a smile broke out across her face upon recognition of who the voice had belonged to. When she saw the invitation in my hand, the smile on her face disappeared nearly as quickly as it had come. Ada was a sharp woman.

"You're working for them now."

Although it was a statement rather than a question, I still nodded, as I lit another cigarette. I offered her a cigarette, giving her the one that I had just lit. I lit myself another one. After the first exhale of the smoke, Ada began to speak.

"So how did you get involved in the family business? Tommy wanted to keep you all to himself without making you his, is that right?"

I couldn't help but smile at her accusation, which seemed to irritate her more in the moment.

"Partly true, I think. I guess I am Tommy's woman now. I moved into the family home."

The sardonic look on her face was quickly overtaken my shock at my words.

"But he hasn't made anyone his woman since-"

As if she thought that she said too much, she quickly stopped. I finished the thought for her.

"Since Greta."

Her eyes widened and she took a step towards me, looking me over. She looked deep in thought as she spoke.

"You know, you do resemble her quite a bit."

"So I have heard."

"He told you about her. He must be quite soft on you."

I sighed, all traces of jovial energy evaporating from my being. What would have made other woman reply in a giddy fashion only highlighted the anxiety I felt, due to the current situation with the Inspector. I was Tommy's weakness, thus making me an easy target. Despite's Ada's annoyance of my contact with her under the direction of Tommy, she noticed my melancholy response. She touched my shoulder with her arm, searching my eyes with an empathy that made me want to cry. She was a true friend.

"Do you not love him, Antonina?

I shook my head immediately.

"No, Ada. I love him. He loves me. That is the issue."

She tilted her head, raising her eyebrows. Sighing again, I began to open up about everything that had happened since I had stepped foot in Small Heath. Who I was. Everything that happened between Tommy and me. Why the Inspector was after me. What Tommy did to save the three of us, temporarily.

Throughout my recollection of what had happened, I vaguely noticed that Ada's expression had grown softer, relaxing.

When I had finally finished my recollection of the events that occurred over the last two weeks, I stopped to catch my breath and light another cigarette. After a moment, Ada broke the silence.

"I feel sorry for you," she began. I shook my head, sighing. I did not need her pity. Sensing why I was shaking my head, she waved her hand as if to wave away my thoughts.

"No, I feel sorry for you because you are never getting out of this family."

I surprised us both when a loud laugh escaped my lips. Soon, the two of us were bent over in a fit of giggles. It was so easy to be with Ada.

After the laughter had died down, I realized why I had come here to meet with her in the first place. I handed the invitation to her. As she read it over, she smiled.

"So there is going to be a wedding?"


	17. A Dying Promise: Part Seventeen

Author's Note:

Hello everyone. I am so very sorry for the hiatus. Thank you so much to everyone who has left favorites, follows, and reviews for this story. I promise that I will be more frequent with my updates. xx

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Part Seventeen:

Even though the wedding was to be a joyous event, I could barely sleep the night before the big day. It troubled me as I lay there for hours next to Tommy, even after he fell asleep beside me around midnight when he came to bed. I wondered why I felt so restless despite my exhaustion. Around half past three in the morning, I realized the origins of my insomnia troubles. In Chicago, troubles always seemed to find us at large family gatherings. It seemed that the Shelby family was no exception to this rule. As soon as the sun rose, I went out of the bed quietly while Tommy still slept.

I crept down the stairs into the main parlor, lighting a cigarette as I watched the beams of light creep through the window. I closed my eyes, thinking about the weddings that I had attended in the past, including my own.

When my cousin Mirosława had married an Italian associate from Little Sicily to smooth things over after a turf misunderstanding, a rival Polish gang had burned down a warehouse filled with our contraband in retaliation.

As I thought of own revenge against the gang, I shuddered at the memory. I had been such a cruel person in my former life.

Soon, my thoughts turned to kinder memories.

My own wedding was a joyous and rather uneventful occasion. David and I had been married by a priest in a church just outside Chicago. I wore a plain white dress with no flair and no friends or family to witness. It had been one of the best days of my life.

It was the aftermath of such event that was troubling.

As I stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the window sill, I looked at the time to see that I needed to start preparing for the day ahead. I crept back up the stairs to our room to see that Tommy had risen since I had left the bed. I began to look through the wardrobe to see what dress would be alright for the occasion. Although I desperately wanted to wear the red dress again, I decided against it because I didn't think red would be appropriate for the occasion. Instead, I pulled out a tan dress with cream and ruby red colored accents dotting the hem of the dress.

As I finished dressing, the creak of the door opening immediately brought a smile to my face. Before I knew it, Tommy had put his arms around me and he kissed my cheek.

"Good morning, Toni."

"Good morning, Tom."

I closed my eye, relishing in the feeling of being held in his arms. It soothed the very worries that had troubled me all night. I leaned into him for a moment before stepping out of his arms to continue getting ready.

As he released me, he studied my face. He frowned slightly.

"You barely slept. Why?"

I nodded, turning back to him.

"Just couldn't. Large gatherings always seem to make me restless."

He nodded as he walked across the room, opening one of the drawers to a smaller wardrobe.

"Close your eyes and turn around. I have something for you."

I smiled as I closed my eyes and did so, feeling another large smile break across my face. I heard his steps grow closer to me.

I felt a cold metal lay on my chest before it was pulled closer to the base of my neck. My hands went to my neck, touching the stone that had been placed on my neck. I was about to open my eyes, before he put one of his hands on my eyes and I laughed. I felt the gentle tug my earlobes before a clipped earring was placed on each one.

He took me in his arms again before moving me across the room to the mirror that hung next to the wardrobe.

"Open 'em."

I opened my eyes and I involuntarily gasped as I looked in the mirror. Tommy had given me a beautiful ruby necklace with earrings to match. It was the perfect touch to my outfit.

"Tommy, they're beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you, love."

I turned around to face him unable to hide the large smile that broke across my face, taking his face into my hands. He pressed his lips to mine and I felt the time to slip away in our embrace.

The knock at the door broke us apart. Sighing, Tommy let me go. He began to put on his coat as he spoke.

"I have to go get John ready for the big day. I'll see you there, alright? You can go with Pol to the Lees."

"I'll be there. Good luck."

As he exited the room, I couldn't help but watch him with a sense of pride that Thomas Shelby loved me so.

* * *

As I arrived to the Lee's camp with Polly, the beautiful, nature saturated decorations were across the landscape. Already, much of the Lee camp was waiting for the wedding to take place.

As we waited for the rest of the Shelby family to arrive, Polly lit a cigarette before offering me one. I lit the cigarette and we stood for a moment in silence before she spoke.

"I always did like a good wedding, even if it was arranged."

I laughed, as I took another drag of the cigarette. Being with Polly was as easy as breathing.

"I have to say, I do as well."

Polly returned my grin with one of her own, before she changed subjects.

"It has to make you think of your own though. What was yours like?"

I sighed, my smile faltering momentarily as I remembered the day.

"It was nothing extravagant or noteworthy to anyone, but it was still magical all the same to the two of us. We married at a cathedral across town with only my younger brother and his sister to witness it. We were crazy for one another. It was one of the happiest moments of my life."

Polly smiled, as she was likely trying to imagine the scene. Realizing that she likely had been married once before, I asked her what her wedding was like.

"I suppose rather similar to what will take place today. The man was nothing noteworthy. He was crushed to death by a boat, the drunkard."

Realizing that I hadn't known Polly was a widow, I took her hand and I gave my condolences to her. It was always in moments like this that I realized I didn't know much about my new family. It was amazing how the chaos of the last few weeks had made it appear as if I knew them for much longer.

She raised her eyebrows in response, but she squeezed my hand in appreciation.

"Life makes you tough, Antonina. You know this, more than any of us."

I nodded. Because that it did.

Soon, Polly and I began to make small talk about my life and happier times in Chicago. I shared stories with her about my younger brothers, as well as some of the good parts of the family business. How much I missed the traditional food of my parents. In turn, she talked about her childhood and her life in Small Heath. She briefly discussed having her own children, though she quickly closed the subject as soon as it begun.

Finally after what seemed like ages, the rest of the Shelby clan arrived with John in tow, a boutineer on his jacket pocket. Though he still appeared to be in shock, an excited nervousness had taken hold of his face. He looked so much younger than I had ever seen him before. For some strange reason, it tugged on my heart strings. In that moment it was if the war had not tarnished his innocence, as it had taken so many others' innocence away.

As everyone waited for the bride to join the wedding, Polly excused herself to tend to some quick business. I was left alone to study the lot, which gave me a chance to smoke a cigarette before everything started.

As it became clear that the wedding would soon begin, Tommy took his place next to me, gently touching my arm to let me know that he had arrived. I smiled, turning to him.

"So I take it that he took it well."

Tommy smirked, before he spoke.

"As well as expected...it took minor convincin.'"

"With you, I am doubtin' that it was just minor."

Tommy chuckled.

"Well, let's just say I said that it would have made the war look like a fuckin' tea party."

In response, I chuckled as I laced my arm in his, watching the moment that John would take his new wife. From this angle, I could not see how she looked or anything about her besides she was a rather petite woman.

"Is she a beautiful bride?"

"Quite honestly….I have no fuckin' idea."

I stifled another laugh, before turning my full attention back to the festivities. I tried to drink in as much detail, because I had never been to a Romani wedding before. If I was to marry into this family, I would have to learn the customs of their kind. My concentration was soon interrupted.

"Well if it isn't my sister," Tommy said to me, before turning to greet a very pregnant Ada with Polly in tow. A smile broke across my face as I saw Ada and she returned my joy with a similar grin.

"Hello Antonina, Tommy."

Tommy looked at her, failing to hide the joy of seeing his sister in person for the first time in ages. My heart warmed at the sight.

"You look well," Tommy spoke as the wedding began in full swing. "I take it you got my invitation."

"Antonina said there was a truce."

At the mention of my name, Tommy smiled.

"Family day."

Soon, Tommy and Ada began to talk quietly together. Although it was difficult to keep my full attention on the wedding, I wanted to give them as much of the privacy that I could give them as they spoke together. I made sure to appear engrossed in the ceremony. The ceremony was rather short, but extremely intimate. I felt Tommy lightly squeeze my hand as John and Esme mingled the blood of their two hands together. Soon, everyone cheered and clapped as the wedding came to an end with the kiss between the groom and bride.

* * *

Following the wedding, all of the guests were ushered to a large field surrounded by a circle of covered wagons. Soon, the food and alcohol began to flow across the wide breath of guests.

Left alone for Tommy to take care of business, I sat at a table, smoking cigarette after cigarette as I watched the dozens of drunk guests dancing. The jovial atmosphere was infectious. I began to clap along with the music, despite being unfamiliar with the beat. As I clapped along, alcohol kept flowing towards me. As soon as I finished a drink, a new one would appear.

Finally returning from a smoke and whiskey with the men, Tommy watched me as I clapped along with the music, a large smile covering his face.

"So Toni, how are you finding a gypsy weddin'?"

"I have to say, Tom, I love the spirit of the wedding."

"I am happy to hear it."

I smiled, as my attention returned to the gay affair before me. Soon, he broke my concentration.

"Can I have this dance, Antonina?"

I smiled, as I turned to him. No doubt that earlier memories of our times together were at the forefront of his mind. The pause gave me a moment of inspiration.

"As long as you don't give me away this time, then I accept."

As Tommy swept me into his arms for the dance, he brushed a tendril of waves out of my face.

"Antonina, I would never give you away again."

I took the outstretched hand and rose to look up at him. Only a second passed before he moved his face to meet my own. As he pressed his lips to my own, I felt the familiar wave of desire rush through me. All too soon, his lips departed from my own.

"That better be a promise, Thomas Shelby."

His eyes sparkled, as we began to spin in a dance with members of the Shelby and Lee families. I couldn't help, but squeal with delight as the world became a myriad of spinning colors. Although I had considered myself a good dancer, I was nothing compared to Tommy.

In that moment, I should have realized that I was like a moth drawn to a flame. He was everything dangerous: good looking, charming (albeit cutting), passionate, driven, and beyond this world's intelligence. And this man was mine.

After nearly a half hour of dancing festivities, I could feel myself growing woosy. Tommy led me to our previous table and he quickly departed to grab us more alcohol.

Someone came beside me and they flopped down in the chair beside me. Thinking how remarkably fast that Tommy was, I turned to see that it was merely Polly who had sat beside me. Although her face was etched with the effects of drink, a worrisome expression had taken hold as she stared off in the distance.

"Have you seen Ada? I think she is enjoying herself too much."

I turned my attention to see the very pregnant and very drunk Ada with a cigarette in hand and a bottle in another. She was dancing like there was no worry in the world...or a child in her womb for that matter. As she spun, I began to grow more concerned for her. The effects of the alcohol that I had felt diminished rather quickly.

As if sensing this, Tommy put the glass on the table in front of me, sliding his hand down my back before he sat. Polly spoke before he even sat down.

"Tom? You should tell Ada to slow down."

"You think she'll listen to me? I tried to stop her but she's been drinking-"

Tommy paused to light his cigarette before speaking again.

"Been stuck in that little basement for weeks. She's going off like a firecracker."

As I watched Ada spin and spin, my scalp began to tingle with unease. I spoke, before even thinking twice about my words.

"Tommy, please go talk to her. Enough is enough."

Tommy turned to me, a cigarette hanging off his lips as he looked over my facial expression.

Without saying anything, Tommy nodded and he rose to walk towards her. Soon a rift began between the two of them with Ada shouting at him, blaming him for her current predicament. Ada began to cause a scene, bringing the wedding to a halt.

"Come and look, Esme. Come and look at the family you've joined. Come and look at the man who runs it! Chooses his brother's wives for them. He hunts his own sister down like a rat and he tries to kill his own brother-in-law!"

"Ada, that's enough."

I couldn't listen anymore. I stood up, leaving the table. Polly attempted to grab my arm to stop me, but I slipped through her fingers.

As I rushed to break up the situation, Ada looked into my eyes, throwing her finger outwards towards me. The action made me slow my pace until I was yards away from her. Her drunk, sardonic laugh filled the air.

"Oh, there she is. Welcome Antonina."

Ada briefly paused, turning in circles before speaking again.

"Thomas Shelby's woman, everyone. The second most feared woman in Small Heath, past Polly. Come and look, Esme! He seems to really love her, but he has men following her all the time. He wouldn't even let her live alone, because he has to keep eyes on her! He had all of his men dig up information on her, even her dead husband! He doesn't even trust his own woman!"

"Ada, I said that's enough."

Even though she was drunk, I felt my heart fall through my chest at her words. On one hand, I understood that he had information dug up on me. But David?

Taking my eyes off of her, I looked straight into Tommy's eye and he shook his head at the silent allegations that ran through my mind.

Before thinking further upon Ada's outburst, I heard a exasperated gasp coming from Ada. As she looked down towards her legs, I realized the dreaded had happened.

Her water had broken.


	18. A Dying Promise: Part Eighteen

Thank you so much to all of the fabulous reviewers (lilbobcatgrl88, Allisonmarie9899, Liam1094, Cassie-01, Peaky, Ashmo21, Leeau, Guest) for the reviews! I promise to update more often. xx A

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Part Eighteen:

The world felt as if it had stopped as we are collectively processed the gravity of the situation that lay before us. Ada was staring at her legs, as if she was a shell shocked soldier on the front lines who had gained an injury.

"Bloody hell, you do pick your times!"

The words from one of the Shelby brothers' shocked my to my senses and I rushed to Ada to help steady her as she began to sway in the spring air's mist. Soon, we all began to carry Ada to an automobile to take her home for her to give birth to her child. As soon as Ada was in the car with one of the more sober and strong willed Peaky Blinders, I ran to Tommy's car. I climbed into the front seat, as he started the engine. We drove in silence for several minutes, until Tommy broke the silence.

"Have you ever delivered a child, Toni?"

I paused for a moment, before replying. Racking my brain for all of the times that I was in some nursing capacity, I realized that I had never been a part of or witnessed the emergence of life. I had only ever witnessed or participated in the taking of it.

"Toni?"

Tommy's exasperated voice brought me back to the reality of the situation as we sped down the road. I shook my head to shake away my thoughts.

"No, I can't say that I have."

"Don't tell Ada that, she'll be looking to you for guidance."

I nodded, lighting a cigarette as he sped through the streets to the unknown location. My heart was pounding, as I tried to remember all of the times that my mother spoke of mine and my siblings' birthes. I knew enough about the process. I could not let Ada down. Thinking of Ada, a thought crossed my mind.

"We should probably let Freddie know that his first born is comin' into the world. He might like to be there, Tom."

Tommy nodded, a look of contemplation covering his face.

"Aye, I suppose he would."

"So are you going to allow him to go?"

Tommy took a moment, before replying to my question. As he contemplated as he focused on the road, I studied his features.

"Yes, I will allow a truce until sunset."

I smiled, though my smile was quickly removed from my face when we pulled up to the car holding a laboring Ada. As she exited the vehicle, she grasped her stomach, doubling over in pain. Before Tommy even placed the car into park, I fled the vehicle, running towards Ada.

At the same time, John and his new wife Esme pulled behind the squadron of cars that were parked in front of a building of apartments.

As I was leaning over Ada as we led her into the home, the men began a conversation about John's car, which was the dowry from Esme's parents.

"How's she run?"

"Yeah beautiful. Really smooth."

I would have rolled my eyes at the absurdity of the timing, discussing cars in the midst of Ada's labor, if I hadn't been focused on helping Ada into the home.

As Ada collapsed in the foyer, Esme and I picked her up to carry her into the bedroom.

As Polly came to join us, she told us that Tommy had given the truce to allow Freddie to come be with Ada, as she delivered their first child into the world. In the midst of Ada's pain, a small smile still played upon her lips at the news that Tommy would allow Freddie to freely be with her. I smiled, thinking that I had made a profound impact on this family-my family-in my short time with Thomas Shelby.

We laid Ada onto the bed, helping her out of her dress. Sweat began to pour from her forehead, drenching her face, twisted in pain.

I hadn't felt this helpless since the war.

A strangled cry of pain ripped through the air as another contraction hit Ada. As we stabilized Ada to attempt to push, the faint smell of blood began to fill the air within the small room.

"Keep going."

"That's right."

"Push, Ada," I said, as I joined the chorus of encouragement from the two other Shelby women in the room.

"We need to re-position her," Esme said.

Mustering up my strength, I picked Ada up, bracing myself against her back for her to be in a more suitable position.

"Toni, I need you to deliver the child," Ada cried, as she attempted to move my arm in a feeble attempt to re-position me.

"I think it may be the wrong way round," Esme's nervous voice interrupting the moment between Ada and me. "I tended three sisters."

Polly looked to Esme, attempting to evaluate the situation. Although Esme was officially a Shelby, Polly was still weary of relinquishing control in the situation to a new member.

As Polly looked to assess the situation, Polly began to nod.

"Yeah, I think you're right. We should move her forward. Toni, Esme, help me stabilize her."

"Come on, Ada. Right, come on."

As we moved Ada forward, I was moved in front of Ada to help her during the time in which the baby would arrive into this world. As I recounted my short medical training, I encouraged Ada to keep pushing. As she began to further dilate, I felt my anxiety heighten and such profound regret, that I realized it could only be tied to my past. What if I made a mistake? How could I help bring life into the world when I had been so responsible for the taking of it? How many people had I killed in Chicago?

Soon, the look in her eyes of fear and exhaustion gave me the motivation to forget whatever misheld anxiety I held throughout this experience. The past had to wait.

"It's not long to go now, darling. Push," I said, somehow finding my voice in the midst of this experience.

Soon, one of the many of Ada's pushes brought along a small head. As she began to push further, I helped deliver her first born child into the world. I held my breath until I heard the cry that broke the silence we all seemingly held in the moment.

Ada began to cry tears of relief and the rest of us began to also cry with tears of joy. We had done it. We had brought life into the world for one of our own.

As Ada held her son for the first time, I felt an indescribable feeling of relief, joy, and happiness for my sister in name. If only Freddie had been here to witness it.

As we began to clean the room and Polly began to make tea, we heard the door open to bring forth an exhausted Freddie.

Ada's joy radiated through the room as her eyes met her husband's.

As Freddie arrived to great the newest member of the Shelby-Thorne family, I felt a joy and love swell inside my heart that was nearly indescribable.

"Oh, he's beautiful."

"It's a boy, Freddie. It's beautiful baby boy. There you go."

"Welcome to the world, Son. Welcome."

In a twist and turn of events, there was more than just the addition of a new Shelby through marriage: but also through the blood, sweat, and labor of Ada-someone that I considered a sister.

As Freddie held Ada and Karl in his arms, he turned to me with a grateful smile and a nod. I smiled back at him.

What a beautiful scene displayed in front of me, devoid of any disparity.

Suddenly, the moment and thoughts were cut short, as an intense hammering on the door commended. Without even a moment to get our bearings, the assailants burst into the room, grabbing at Freddie. It dawned on me that it was the Birmingham police.

They had come for him. From behind me, a shout echoed through the chaos.

"You can't come in here,there's a baby just been born!"

Polly's voice brought me to my senses and my body began to move, before my mind had caught up with it.

I rushed to intervene in an attempt to help, but was thrown to the floor by one of the younger officers. As I met the hardwood floor with a large thud, I couldn't help but remain impassively glued to the situation at hand.

"Freddie? Don't hurt him. Freddie! You are hurting him, leave him alone."

"You're taking me away from my baby?"

"Ada!"

"Freddie!"

In just a moment's time, Freddie and the police had left.

Through the unsettling silence, Ada's cries shook through the entire enclosed space, as she held her newborn. Esme looked helpless and out of place, as she looked between the two of us, Ada and I, to figure out where she was needed. I was too dumbstruck to move a muscle, as I tried to figure out how they had known. My stomach turned as I assessed the situation at hand.

Who had betrayed us?

It was only Polly who seemed to finally act, helping me off of the floor and dusting my dress off, before moving to Ada. Ada was inconsolable, as Esme took Karl from her arms.

"How did they know where he was?"

Esme's voice only seemed to be above a whisper.

Polly turned to us, with one of the darkest looks that had ever been cast upon her face.

"There's only one man who could have done this-and it's Tommy Shelby."

I felt reality slip away, as my initial stomach churning thought had come to light.

He had done it.

Everyone turned to me, gauging my reaction if I had known. When they saw the ghastly look cover my face, they knew that I had no idea.

I couldn't breathe. He had not only betrayed my trust, but Ada's joy. Her husband. Her son.

He had deprived them of what should have been a joyous memory.

"Do you want to go take care of it then, Toni?"

I remained staring at the wall, vaguely aware of my head shaking.

Polly left without another word, as she left two hearts breaking in the room.

* * *

As I stared out of the window of Watery Lane, the ash continued to dwindle off of my cigarette, like my thoughts.

It was well past three a.m. Even though I had barely slept the evening before, the sweet release of somber continued to elude me. As I attempted to lay in the bed that was Tommy and I's, I couldn't seem to relax before confronting Tommy. If he had slipped into bed when I was sleeping, it would have been too easy for him.

As the clock ticked on the wall to symbolize fifteen past the hour, the door creaked open to our bedroom. My body betrayed me, as my heartbeat began to quicken at the proximity of Tommy. His familiar scent filled the air, smoke and whiskey mingled with a cologne.

I failed to turn my back, even as his footsteps stopped, just feet before reaching me.

He was analyzing my body response to him, likely evaluating what I made of the situation. Soon, he came to stand right behind me, my spine prickling at his proximity.

I had become a master of impasse, as I continued to smoke my cigarette. I let the smoke exhale, as he grasped my shoulders to turn me around.

"So you believe it too, don't you?"

I looked into the ocean irises that I had come to seek everywhere. I searched them for any sign of guilt, remorse, indifference.

I was only met with vulnerability, small sadness, and fatigue.

Could he have done this to Ada? To our family?

I exhaled, not releasing that I had been holding my breath.

"I don't know, Tommy."

It was the truth. He nodded, stepping into me. As him arms slid over my own, I leaned into him. He felt more tense than usual.

"I didn't do it, Toni."

"Then who did, Tom?"

"I don't know. Let's go to bed and try to figure it out tomorrow. You need sleep, Toni."

I wanted to believe him. Even as he kissed me and led me to the bed to exhaust whatever desires we may have held from earlier in the evening, it still took me until the dawn to fall asleep, as Tommy slid out of bed to begin his day.


	19. A Dying Promise: Part Nineteen

Part Nineteen:

It seemed to become a ritual.

Following my departure from the hostile bounds that had become the Shelby home on Watery lane, my day began by pounding on the door of Ada's no longer, clandestine hideout. I would wait, make idle conversation with the decaying wood door, and leave unsuccessfully, with a basket of rotten food in hand.

I was beginning to become frustrated, as I received radio silence on the other side.

But still, I tried.

Hopefully, today would be the last of the one sided conversations with the decaying, wooden door. We had a plan to rescue Freddie from the grasps of the police.

"Ada, you need to eat. I brought food here for you again. The fruits are rotten from the other baskets, so I'm taking them away, alright? Polly is coming later to share some news with you, about Freddie. You need to open the door to her."

I waited for a moment, though it was in vain.

Even though I knew that I would get no answer or response before my departure, I knew Ada could hear each word. She would let in Polly later, since it related to Freddie, if she knew what was good for her. As a Shelby, she had to know.

After a few moments, I turned around to leave. I sighed as I collected the rotten food, walking slowly away from the small apartment door.

Before I met the foyer, I heard her door open ever so slightly, grabbing the basket of food quickly and locking the door behind her. I smiled to myself, as it had been a small victory for the day.

With the passing days' losses, it would have to do.

As I exited, I lit a fresh cigarette and I began to walk down the Small Heath streets, towards Watery Lane.

During my walk, I dared to think about the days before the family seemed to fall apart.

Fourteen days had passed in between the arrest of Freddie and now. So quickly the joys of being in this new family were dwindling away.

Even though it had been ever so complicated before, those times seemed to be like a cake walk in comparison to the tense atmosphere that had descended upon the family.

The entire family had ceased communication with Tommy, which made business matters and, by extension, my own life more complicated. In consequence of the communication blockade between Thomas and the family, I became the liaison. In between the shifts at The Garrison, it had become exhausting being a multitude of places at once. Sleep had come to me, only because of the sheer exhaustion I felt.

I had never felt more tension in my life, even though I had acted as a liaison between hostile parties before. Much like Ada's treatment of me, the family held a rather icy demeanor dealing with me, even though they had to know that I had nothing to do with this betrayal. Tommy said as much to them through me, which didn't seem to help my case.

Despite my initial misgivings about Tommy's role in the situation, I had to put my preoccupations aside. While love was enough to overcome nearly any situation, he was the only one to treat me in a normal fashion.

In an attempt to rectify the situation, we had come up with a detailed plan to help break Freddie out of police custody tomorrow, which Tommy labeled as Black Star Day.

In his own words, it would become the single most important day in the history of the Peaky Blinders up to this point. I was the only one to know about it.

It seemed rather funny that we were trying to fix one perceived betrayal, only to commit an actual betrayal against Billy Kimber and his crew.

Following the union of the Lee and Shelby families, Tommy had solidified the commencement to his plan to rob Kimber of all of his money and bettings at each of the surrounding tracks. The fight with the Lees and the subsequent mending of the situation had provided enough men to take down one of the Peaky Blinder's largest competitors.

Really, it had been a brilliant plan, methodically carried out in a sequence that could only be attributed to pure intellect on Tommy's part.

But with the arrest of Freddie and the continued suffering of Ada, I still felt little joy or pride for the man that I had come to love in these moments.

I just wanted it to be fixed and life to resume to the normal business of things. If you could call our business normal.

Although I seemed to be the largest hypocrite, honor was everything to me. In my mind, Tommy had somehow attributed to the betrayal and detainment of his brother in law. A man who had taken a bullet for him in the war. A man who was a member of his family, whether he liked it or not.

Although I had come to believe that Tommy hadn't given Freddie to the police, something he had done made it possible for them to come.

It was the missing thread that I kept trying to find.

As I walked into our room, I was taken from my thoughts at the sight of Tommy sitting on the bed, seemingly waiting for me. He smiled at me, albeit a tense smile.

Despite my general apprehension about the situation surrounding us, I felt myself smile at him.

I walked over to him, sitting on the bed. He pulled me into an embrace and we lay on the bed for a few minutes in peace. It was heaven to lay in his arms, even if it seemed like hell was descending around us.

"Did she answer?"

I sighed, shaking my head.

"No, but she took the basket after I told her Polly would be by later to talk about Freddie."

"That's progress."

I nodded, feeling uncharacteristically tense with him again. I hated this feeling.

"You're so tense, Toni."

I sighed, leaving his embrace to light myself a cigarette. I lit another one and handed it to him. He nodded, waiting for my explanation.

"I hate this situation, Tommy. I just want things to return to the way they were."

He sighed, rubbing his eyes and smoothing his hand over his hair. It was rare to see Tommy in moments, in which he was at a loss for words.

"I know, Toni. It will be over soon, I promise you that. I'll get you out of this house and we can have a separate space away from the family."

"So living in sin away from your family."

He smirked, as he exhaled his cigarette.

"No, I don't suppose so."

My heart started beating at his words. Did it mean what I think it meant?

I looked to him and I could see the uncharacteristic vulnerability on my face reflected in his eyes. The cigarette I had been preoccupied with was taken from my hand, as Tommy discarded both of our cigarettes into the ashtray. It seemed to be years before he spoke.

"I'm going to make you a real Shelby, Antonina. Would you agree to it?"

The words left my mouth, before I even thought of the answer. It seemed to be etched in the fate of our paths, even when I didn't realize it.

"Yes."

It was as if the weight of the world left his shoulders, as he took my face in his hands and kissed me, passionately.

We shut the entire world out around us, as we unceremoniously consummated our engagement.

* * *

A few hours later, I found myself working at the pub, while Tommy took care of unfinished business before the next day. In all honesty, it was an unwelcome distraction that night, as I began my shift at the Garrison with Harry and Grace remaining at the bar.

Little did I know, the night would lead me to find the thread that would set into motion the complete rearranging of my life.

Around eight p.m., Tommy burst into the Garrison, running straight towards me. Everything went quiet. I found myself frozen in the place, in which I had been polishing a pint glass.

Everything seemed wrong, out of place.

Although his voice carried its steady, authoritative tone, the following words came in bursts, as if he were scared that there wasn't enough time to flush the words out of his system.

"Antonina, we have to leave. They've found them. The guns."

The bar glass I held in my hand slipped from my grasp, breaking all across the floor. I should have paid more attention to the metaphorical nature of this action: it soon would become the symbol of my life.

Everything I had ever wanted, slipped from my grasp in a moment, only to shatter into a million shards.

I couldn't breathe.

The guns were in the custody of the police.

The only leverage ensuring our safety had been ripped away from us.

We had nothing. They were going to kill us all. I would be returned to Chicago.

I felt Tommy shake me back into reality. I began to blink rapidly at him, trying to make everything go back to normal. The same scene was before me, albeit Tommy had come around the bar to shake sense into me.

"I have to get you out of here. You have to leave, Antonina. We have to go."

I nodded, taking off the apron that covered my navy dress.

Suddenly, a voice broke the tension between us.

"It will be better if you separate. I can take you, Mr. Shelby. Antonina can be hidden elsewhere. I'll reunite the two of you when the danger has passed."

"But who will hide Antonina, Grace? You take her."

"I'll hide her, sir."

I turned to look at the man, who I recognized as the one who had helped me during the fight in the pub, just months prior. Trying to grasp at his name, I realized it was Nicholas. It only dawned on me then that he had the Anglicized version of my little brother's name, Mikołaj.

I looked between the four of us, knowing that indecision and hesitation had no place here, if I wanted us to be safe. Haphazardly, I took Nicholas' namesake to be a sign from above that Grace had common sense.

As I looked to Tommy, he nodded as if it were clear that we had more of a chance to separate.

I nodded, suddenly grasping his body tightly against mine. The drama of the last two weeks didn't seem to matter, as he quickly kissed me. My heart ached at the possibility that we may never see each other again.

"I'll find you, Toni. I love you."

"I love you too, Tommy. More than you ever know."

With one more brief kiss, he began to follow Grace, as she took his arm.

As Grace led him through the back, I turned to leave with Nicholas. As we went to make our way out the door, the police arrived, storming through the front door.

We had no chance to leave.

I was quickly shoved into the closet of the back room, Nicholas guarding the door. I had half a mind to employ him with the Peaky Blinders myself in the moment, if we lived through this.

As the Inspector began screaming for Thomas Shelby and Antonina Casey, my heartbeat threatened to block out the sounds going on within the next room.

I knew that I had to remain alert, in the event I needed to make my move. I started to do the breathing exercises I had done, only months before.

With Grace and I absent, Harry had to be the one to deal with the inspector. I only prayed that he knew what he was doing.

"We're looking for THOMAS SHELBY! Where is he?"

"Never heard of him."

I heard a crash, likely from the copper bastards destroying the bar as an intimidation tactic.

"Alright lets try this again, I'm looking for ANTONINA CASEY. She's a barmaid here. Surely, if you know what's good for her, you'll give her up."

"You'll never find her."

As I heard the gunshot and the crashing of glass, i involuntarily screamed.

He killed Harry. Over me.

Suddenly, I heard Harry protesting and I breathed a sigh of relief: it had been a warning shot. Soon, I heard the Inspector's grimy voice.

"On your knees. Now understand this, barman. I don't care if you live or die."

I realized I couldn't let the man who had taken me in, die over me. It would have been the ultimate betrayal.

As I went to rush out the room, Nicholas stopped me, pushing his finger to his mouth. Warning me to be quiet and not play the hero in the moment.

It was then that I heard Harry give up Tommy's location: he was with Grace, the Irish barmaid.

"He left….he left with the barmaid. He left with Grace. I think they were going to her place."

As much as I wanted to blame him for it, I knew why he had done it: to protect me. Tears sprang to my eyes, as I knew Harry had signed his death warrant with the Peaky Blinders. For me.

I couldn't worry about that now. I had to worry about Tommy.

Taking a deep breath, I paused for a moment, trying to calculate my next move, racking my brain to see if I knew where she lived to warn him.

I decided to give myself up to save him. As I started to slowly walk to my death, a peculiar thing happened.

In an unexpected turn of events, Inspector Campbell called the whole search off. For a countless time tonight, I couldn't breathe.

Why had the Inspector called off the search? Why were we suddenly safe?

When the police began to even question him, he continued to call off the search, storming out the door to an unknown location.

But why?

Then it hit me, like a bullet from a sniper.

The answers to my questions had been under my nose all along.

I found the thread: it was Grace Burgess.

He was protecting her.

She was the one who had betrayed us. She was the double agent.

And she was with Tommy.

As soon as Nicholas signaled that the coast was clear, I rushed to Harry, who had been still hunched on the ground. He was bleeding. When he looked at me, his eyes filled with shame. I shook my head, as if to say this wasn't the time for that.

"Where does Grace live?"

He looked at me as if I had lost my mind. I didn't have time for this. I asked a second time, much sharper than I had intended.

"Where does Grace live, Harry?"

When he told me, I yelled at the men to get a doctor for Harry by order of the Peaky Blinders.

Within a moment of grabbing my coat and pistol, I ran out of the door without a plan or calculation for how I was going to rescue Tommy from the situation.


	20. A Dying Promise: Part Twenty

Author's Note:

Thank you to the new follows, favorites, and reviews on this story! A special thanks to the two new reviews from paulavara140 and Heaven's Mistake.

I will admit, this was a difficult chapter to write for many reasons. Within this chapter, these is betrayal and a difficult, traumatic encounter between the Inspector and Antonina (while it is not sexual assault, the Inspector wants to do so to Antonina and threatens). I did want to put that as a content note. It comes after Tommy's POV in the chapter.

I have to agree that Grace was not my favorite character in the show, despite the fact that she is a complex character. In many ways Tommy has been sweet to Antonina in this series, but he also has his faults. I wanted to showcase the complexities of it all, within the general framework of the show's timeline.

I did want to note that this series is coming to a close...but please do not be alarmed! There will be a sequel for every series' season. I plan to write this story through Season 5. So I hope that is a small bit of good news. Details will come in the coming chapters.

As always, please let me know what you think! I plan to update the next chapters very shortly.

x A

* * *

Part Twenty:

As Thomas Shelby entered the small apartment of Grace Burgess on the second floor of the dingy building just streets away from The Garrison, his mind was racing.

He was no stupid man. Surely, Antonina did not make it out in time before the coppers had come bursting through the door. They had just barely made it.

He only hoped that his men were as loyal as he thought they were. Surely, someone would have hidden her away or died defending her. There was no safety now that the guns were gone. He didn't even have time to question Grace's willingness to help. Although he had noticed on more than one occasion Grace had fancied him, he knew that he could never betray Antonina like that.

There was only one thing on his mind.

Would Antonina be safe?

"It's not much of a place."

The silky voice of the Irish barmaid broke him from his thoughts.

He nodded, his eyes not focusing on his surroundings. It seemed just fine for a short stay.

"It's alright."

"You want tea?"

He smirked, before answering. Hospitality in a moment like this?

"Tea? No."

"I have rum."

Grace appeared nervous at his refusal to have tea, quickly offering the solution to the problem. He sighed, realizing that he seemed rather ungrateful.

Tommy decided to be a good guest, as he owned Grace Burgess for saving him. A debt that he would have to repay. The least he could do was accept her offer of tea in the moment.

"Actually tea it is."

Grace smiled, relaxing as she began to start the kettle. As she finished filling the pot with water, an uncomfortable silence lay in between them.

Even though he worried about Antonina, he felt a sudden calm appear over him. Another calm in the storm.

"It must have been a shock to see the cops in the lane. What were they after anyhow?"

Grace's voice broke him from his thoughts again.

"They found something that I had. Something of value."

"How did they know about it?"

Tommy sighed, anxiety coursing through him once more. He hadn't even had time to consider what had happened. All he could think about was finding Antonina and bringing her to safety. He hoped that she was safe above all else.

Still, he was no fool. Business was a top priority.

And it seemed to be slipping from him, all at once.

He decided to answer honestly.

"I have no idea, Grace."

Grace's hands began to shake, as she fiddled with the cup of tea. As she set it down on the table in front of Tommy, his curiosity peaked as a sense of dread began to follow it.

"Grace, do you have something to tell me?"

She passed, unsure of herself. Soon, she found her voice.

"I think it was Antonina, Tommy…."

Tommy stood, anger surging through his veins. Although he never liked to shout at women, something in him snapped.

"What the fuck are you talkin' 'bout, Grace?"

Grace's eyes widened. She began to stammer, as she spoke.

"I saw Campbell meetin' with Antonina…."

Tommy shook his head. Clearly, there was a misunderstanding.

"I knew about that, Grace. He was threatening her."

Grace sighed, moving towards him. As she placed her hand on his arm, she put her head down before meeting his gaze. Her eyes were filled with tears, as she spoke.

"More than once, Mr. Shelby….she was always disappearing at work lately. Late for her shifts. Secret meetings, it seemed."

Tommy couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He began to pace the floor, trying to work it all out.

It couldn't be true.

But then...how else did the coppers find out about Freddie? About the guns?

It suddenly all became clear.

He was so blind. Blinded by love.

It was Antonina's idea about Freddie coming to see Ada when the child was born. The Inspector always seemed to be preoccupied with Antonina. Campbell knew that she was Tommy's weakness.

He had only told Antonina about the location of the guns outside of Charlie and Curly. They were the only ones who knew. Charlie and Curly would never betray him.

With Antonina's arrival, it seemed that everything had gone out of the ordinary. Business was anything, but usual.

Could she have been capable?

Deep inside, he knew that she was capable of anything.

She was the smartest, cunning, and most dangerous woman he knew.

She was familiar with this life. He considered it an asset.

But was it?

The more that he thought about it, the more it all made sense.

She was just too perfect.

Even though she was no stranger to this life, she had to have done something to warrant being an agent of the Crown.

After all, betrayal was written on her back.

He couldn't contain his anger.

"Why the FUCK didn't you tell me soon, Grace? What are you playin' at?"

"I didn't want to say anything...because…"

Tommy turned to face Grace.

His anger began to melt away.

For a moment, Tommy really saw her for what she was. A former posh girl, who found herself in unfortunate circumstances. He realized that he had been attempting to win over her affections before Antonina had arrived. Her care for him melted the ice that he felt in his heart towards her.

In that moment, he could see what they could have been. She was always loyal. A nice girl who simply waited on the side of business, rather than being directly involved. Someone he could keep safe.

"Why, Grace?"

His sultry, soft voice seemed to shock Grace. Her sharp inhale of breath was a clear sign. She was so vulnerable, hanging on his every movement. He took a slow step towards her, anticipating the words that came out of her mouth.

"Because I love you, Thomas Shelby."

As soon as the words left her lips, he kissed her. It was as if every kiss, every movement was made to absolve the mistake he had made with Antonina.

Soon, Antonina became a distant memory.

Soon, she became a ghost of his past.

It was only Grace Burgess in his present.

* * *

As I walked onto Grace's street, my heartbeat threatened to drown out the sounds of the Small Heath night. My thoughts were running wild, dulling my instincts and senses.

What if she had already turned him in? What if the Inspector was killing him as I crept along?

My panic nearly blinded me from spotting the solitary figure standing in front of Grace's building. The figure stood staring at the only lit window, a hunter studying his prey.

Campbell.

He turned to look at me, regarding me as if I were any other member of the Small Heath scum to flitter around in the evening. As if I weren't Small Heath's most wanted women.

I froze in my place, unable to understand the scene before me. As if it were a dream.

Still, it shocked me when he spoke.

"You're a bit of a foregone conclusion. I knew you'd be here."

As I looked around to see where the rest of my executioner squad were to be hidden, he shook his head at my inquires. He motioned for me to come stand next to him.

"It's just you and me, Ms. Casey."

Despite my usual sharp nature, I could not speak.

The situation was odd, unlike anything I could have been prepared for.

Still not trusting my surroundings, I held my pistol firmly in my hand as I slowly approached him, our adverse roles obviously making us unfit to be together peacefully in this setting.

And yet we were.

Soon, he offered me his pipe and I shook my head. He silently smoked his pipe, not bothering to reach for his gun.

Despite every rational instinct, I lowered my gun into my dress pocket.

I lit the match for what should have been my very last cigarette.

I didn't dare look away from his face, anticipating his next move.

It was years before either of us spoke. It seemed that he was waiting for me to speak.

"Why haven't you arrested me yet, Inspector? You have the guns."

"No point….you're not a valuable asset to Mr. Shelby anymore, I'm afraid."

My blood ran cold at his words.

"I'm his fiancé, Inspector. I don't understand."

"It seems we have both been played the fool, Antonina."

I cocked my head at him, suddenly finding my fire.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Campbell?"

He merely tilted his head up to the lit window.

It was then that I saw it.

Two bodies were embracing one another in passion, against the window pane. Her body was pressed against the glass, her blonde hair fanned out in a myriad of directions. Above her, I could make out the sliver of the signature haircut from anywhere.

It was Tommy.

Against the window pane, Grace was pressed into the glass.

The cigarette fell from my lips, spraying the asphalt with sparks everywhere.

Time stood still.

I felt my heart stop and break all at once. There had to be an explanation.

There had to be.

I couldn't bare it any longer. It had to be a nightmare.

As I turned my face away from the window, the Inspector grabbed my face and forced me to watch the scene unfolding before me. His nails dug into my face, forcing me to watch the horror show in front of me.

It wasn't the physical pain that caused me to cry out, but the emotional turmoil, watching the two lovers before my eyes.

I couldn't stop the tears from brimming in my eyes and the strangled sob escaping from my lips.

I didn't even have the sense to shoot Campbell. It was as if everything stood still.

He made me watch for what seemed like ages.

"Stop...I can't watch anymore."

I didn't even recognize my own voice. It resembled that of a small child, begging.

To Campbell's everlasting credit for his sadistic nature, he finally pushed me away and smirked, despite his obvious pain.

Normally, I would take joy in his pain, as he did my own. We were the same in this regard, two sadistic creatures attempting to conceal our true nature to the world.

It only came as an afterthought to me, why he would be in pain.

Then, it became all too clear to me: he was in love with Grace Burgess.

Despite myself, I chuckled. He raised his eyebrows at me, puffing on his pipe, as he awaited my explanation.

How funny we were, the two of us in love with the two who were embraced in intimacy just feet from our footsteps.

"It seems that you may be an even bigger fool than myself, Inspector Campbell."

He was quick to reply.

"For his whore, you are sharp…...as much as it used to give me satisfaction to imagine how much pain Mr. Shelby would be in for you to meet your end with your family, I realize you are nothing to 'im now."

"Then what now, Inspector? What do you have planned for me?"

He took a moment, before responding.

"Don't worry, you can stay in Small Heath."

"And what about your double agent, Campbell?"

Despite his arrogant smirk, a flash of pain shot through his eyes. Like me, he soon found his fire.

"Grace will be arrested. Mr. Shelby will likely meet his death one day soon from his own stupidity. You will be left with all of the ghosts to be, all alone. What a joy it will be to witness."

It wasn't rational. He had done much worse things to me tonight, in the past, and beyond.

And yet, his words struck a chord within me that I thought was long dead, left in Chicago. Something in me snapped. I didn't care who he was anymore.

I had no one to protect any longer.

My anger boiled over as I went to strike Inspector Campbell with as much force as I could muster.

Unfortunately, he anticipated my response. He grabbed my arm, twisting it to the point it nearly broke. I cried out in pain, dropping to the ground.

"You listen to me, Ms. Casey. I have little patience for Thomas Shelby's whores. Don't mistake my temporary kindness for insanity. You'll be useful to me one day, so I'll let you live. But not before I take something first."

As soon as the words left his mouth, my blood ran cold. Ever since he had caressed my arm those months ago, I knew what he secretly wanted to do to me. What every horrible man wanted to do, to take something from a woman that wasn't theirs. To rob them of a piece of themselves.

As his face came down to meet mine, it suddenly dawned on me that I was armed and ready to kill.

Even if it meant the end of my life.

With my free hand, I quickly grabbed the pistol in my pocket, pressing it to his crotch through my dress. His face stopped just an inch from my own.

As the adrenaline had replaced my blood flow, I spoke quickly.

"You will let me go or I'll fucking kill you. His whore or not, I'll never be tried for your murder. Less than seven minutes after the shot and you'll bleed out every cell of that rotten blood that makes up the core of you. I was the best shot in Chicago. Take your pick. My mercy is limited."

He held my gaze, as I continued to hold the pistol in place.

The sick bastard simply smirked.

"You may have won this battle, Antonina. But mark my words: I will win the war. And I will take my winnings then. You will be sure of it."

It seemed like an eternity before he let go of my arm. As soon as he did, I pushed past him.

I didn't even bother trying to shoot him.

I couldn't process what had just happened.

It had all become too much.

I had no destination in mind, as the scenes of Small Heath became a blur.

It only occurred to me as I pounded on the rotting wood door of the dingy apartment, that I was at Ada's home.

Something resembling home.

Panicked that the Inspector would come to finish what he started, my pounding became more frenzied.

"Alright, alright, stop stop, I am comin'! Whoever the fuck it is-"

As soon as Ada opened the door, I collapsed in the entryway, cutting off whatever words she was shouting prior to our greeting. Sobs wracked through my body.

"Antonina!"

I had no energy to even reply. It was as if my life had left me.

I couldn't breathe.

Everything went black.


	21. A Dying Promise: Part Twenty-One

Part Twenty One:

Daylight soon came to find me.

Disoriented, I looked around me to realize that I was alone in an apartment.

Like a tidal wave, the events of the previous evening had crashed over me. Each recurring wave of memories brought another of immeasurable pain.

Tommy's betrayal had led me to a near soul breaking encounter with the Inspector. It was sheer luck that I could escape. It was sheer luck that I found myself to Ada's, despite everything crashing around me.

Looking around, I realized Ada had already left with Karl, leaving me to revel in my loss alone.

Looking down, I realized that Ada has placed me in her bed. Somehow, she had dragged my lifeless body through the room and into her bed.

As much as I wanted to be touched by her kindness, the fire of loss pulsed through my veins.

My heart felt as if it had shattered into a million pieces.

I didn't want to move, but then I realized that it was late in the morning as I glanced outside.

Trying to set my emotions aside, I tried to think about my next steps. I couldn't fall apart now.

There was no time for this.

I couldn't repeat what I had done with David's passing. I was not that woman anymore.

Sighing, I left myself out of the apartment, not bothering to check my appearance.

As I walked out of the apartment, I realized that I couldn't return to Watery Lane...at least permanently.

Where would I go?

A voice of clarity rang through my mind: _where you were meant to be all along. Safe at The Garrison._

I cursed, as I walked the streets.

I knew that I had to return to the Shelby household to retrieve some of my things before heading to my old apartment above the Garrison. I did not want to live another day in that household for the time being. Not after he laid with Grace Burgess.

If I had any other option, I would never return to the Garrison. I couldn't face her either.

It was comical how I had been reduced to nothing in a day. I had become too comfortable in this life.

I was ashamed at myself. I didn't want anyone to see me like this.

Luckily, I walked the streets of Small Heath to Watery Lane without encountering any of the Peaky Blinders. Although I had thought it odd and a relief at first, I realized what day it was. Again, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Of course, all of the Shelby men were preparing for today.

It was Black Star Day.

The realization sparked life back into me. This was an operation that I helped plan from the start. The fruits of my labor. I had things to do.

Tommy Shelby would not run me away from this day.

Finding my fire, I stormed through the betting dens to find the stairs for good measure. I stomped on the stairs, as if it were every enemy that I ever encountered.

As I flung open the door to our former room, I saw that the room was absent of Tommy's presence, though he had evidently been there this morning. I changed into my navy blue dress, to match my dark mood.

As I looked over the room, I realized that he deserved to endure my wrath. I would wait to retrieve my clothes after today was all said and done. I would fulfill my part today. If he couldn't be loyal, then at least I would be.

For a moment, I took in the calm of the room. A war would surely be waiting for us when we both returned to this room in the evening hours.

At the last minute before my departure, I put David's letters, my pistol, and my jewelry in my small handbag to store at my room in The Garrison. It was the only thing I could allow myself to take, because I did not want him to have this part of me any longer.

As a petty parting move, I quickly stole a pack of cigarettes from his drawer, stomping down the stairs for effect. As I made my way to leave, Polly stopped me, asking me what the hell was going on and why wasn't I at the family meeting this morning. Everyone had just went to The Garrison, Polly said.

"Ask Tommy and his cock. It has found its way between the legs of Grace Burgess," I said.

I went to walk past her, but Polly grabbed my arm, shock registering across her face. My cold exterior melted at her touch and I audibly stifled a sob.

My bravado failed again. I was no longer Antonina Paltrowicz, but Antonina Casey after the end of the Great War.

Her worried eyes searched mine and I shook my head. I could not go there. Not here. Not now.

To Polly's everlasting credit, she nodded. She straightened my dress, tidying up my hair.

"Toni, we will get this sorted out later. Go about your business as planned. You wait at the Garrison. Make him regret fucking that slag."

I tried to smile, as she gave me a hug.

As I slowly walked to the Garrison, I lit a cigarette to control my emotions. When an onslaught of Peaky Blinder men ran past me, I felt the hairs stand on the back of my neck. Arthur found me in the street.

"Toni, we've been done over. Kimber and his men are comin'."

I felt the fear grip my heart, momentarily forgetting about my anger at Tommy for what he had done. Forgetting the pain.

My family was in danger.

My survival instinct kicked in.

Suddenly, it snapped me out of my childlike heartache. I needed to find him and protect him.

"Where is Tommy, Arthur?"

"The Garrison. Go quickly, love."

I threw the cigarette down, as I ran to The Garrison.

Just two blocks from The Garrison, I found him.

And he walked past me as if I didn't exist.

Stunned, I followed him as he walked towards home, trying to talk to him. Despite my continued pleas, he would not turn around. He would not acknowledge me.

Finally, I shouted at him, losing my nerves.

"Goddamnit Thomas Shelby, you turn the fuck around and look at me. I am trying to talk to you after you fucked Grace Burgess last night and left me with the Inspector. _You betrayed me_. Despite this, I am trying to talk to the man I love before a bunch of fuckin' men try to kill 'em. Turn the fuck around and acknowledge me."

He whipped around and his gaze nearly took me down where I stood. Although I had seen this anger across his face before, it had never been directed towards me. I wanted to hold my ground, but I could not avoid the shock that came across my face. My eyes widened as he grew closer to me. My resolve faltered.

" _I betrayed you?_ Was it so bad that you were with the Inspector? After all, you have a close relationship with 'im."

Anger surged through me. How dare he.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Thomas Shelby?"

"You tell me, _Antonina Paltrowicz,_ how the guns, Black Star Day, and Freddie Thorne became such public knowledge when I only told family, which included you?"

I had no words to say as I processed this information. While I knew about all of these things, I had not talked to anyone outside of the family about this. My silence made him continue.

"Tell me, _Ms. Paltrowicz_ , how the Inspector told me that my heart would be broken by the end of the day? Surely, he meant you. He all, but confirmed it. Did you really think that I wouldn't find out about this betrayal?"

"Are you implying that I was the one the betray you?"

"Well who the fuck else am I talking about, _Ms. Paltrowicz?_ "

Before this moment, he had never so much as raised his voice at me. Now, I realized why so many people feared Thomas Shelby. While it was not the yelling and the anger that made me afraid, it was how easily blindsided he had become to the truth. This had been Grace Burgess' and the Inspector's doing. I stifled the sardonic laugh that gurgled in my throat.

"You are so fucking blind, Tommy. Do you think that I would willing work with the coppers? Inspector Campbell? Or Billy Kimber? Two men, who both tried to have their wicked way with me? After you left me alone with them? How dare you. Unlike you, I have honor. I don't collaborate with fuckin' cops and pigs like Kimber."

"Don't you fuckin' tell me about honor, Antonina Paltrowicz. You lost your right to say that you uphold honor when you left your family in Chicago."

The breath left my body as soon as he said the words. When I looked into his eyes, I saw nothing but cold anger. As much as I wanted to curse him where he stood, I couldn't speak. I felt as if my mouth were filled with glue. After my lack of reply, he continued further on.

"In fact, maybe I should wire them in Chicago to let them know about your latest activities."

It was then that I felt the fear grip my heart. Against all of my resolve, I began to cry.

"You wouldn't. I didn't do this, Tommy. I swear on my life."

He studied me, before answering. His eyes remained cold, like ice cold glaciers ripping away the hull of a steel ship. Like gushes of water, pain flowed through me.

He continued.

"Your word means nothing to me. You should leave the city immediately or I will wire word to Chicago about your whereabouts. Before Kimber's men arrive. Goodbye, Ms. Paltrowicz."

Soon, my tears dried up. He was no longer the man that I had come to love. Finally, I saw Tommy in a new light. As so many others had.

He was a cold businessman. Once I became no longer an asset to him, I was nothing.

I had been played a fool.

There was no love for people like him.

Like me.

All of the love in the world could not fix this between us. We were done.

Mirroring his cold expression, we stared at each other for what felt like years.

Of all the things that I wanted to say to Tommy Shelby in the moment, the only thing I could muster was the words that I would regret for years to come.

"Fuck you, _Thomas Shelby_. I will see you in hell."

The shock washing across his face was the last thing that I saw as I turned on my heel to return to The Garrison. Before I left the city, I had business to take care of with Grace Burgess.

* * *

Still feeling the anger from Antonina's betrayal, Tommy stormed into the Shelby family residence to meet with his family before the arrival of Kimber and his men.

As soon as he entered the parlor, Polly battered him with postulations about how this could have happened. As Tommy lit a cigarette, he shook his head. He already knew.

"Love blinded me, Pol."

Polly remained stoic, as she processed the information. Realizing what he meant, she shook her head as if to wave the accusation away.

"It couldn't have been Antonina, Tom."

Tommy shook his head.

"Who else could it have been? I told her everything. No one else knew everything, but the family and her. The Inspector told me this morning that my heart would break today. Grace told me last night. I won't hear it, Pol. Antonina had to do this."

Polly could not believe the words, searching for another alternative. On one hand, Antonina was no stranger to betraying loved ones when she thought that she was doing the right thing. On the other hand, Polly knew that Antonina would not do something like this to Tommy and the family. Although Polly had her deep suspicions about who did, she knew that she had to gain confirmation before telling Tommy. She could see that he was dead set on whatever Grace Burgess and the Inspector had made him believe.

As she bid him luck, she left to go towards The Garrison on an instinct to go there right away. She needed to learn the truth.

* * *

As I entered The Garrison, there was not a soul within the place. It had been the quietest and most eerie that I had ever seen the place. Taking my pistol from my handbag, I walked through the main parlor for any sign of the woman that had just ruined my life.

I had nearly given up, when I heard her voice from behind me.

"You know...the Inspector wanted you extradited to America for your crimes, immediately. I convinced him otherwise. It was easier to throw Tommy off my trail with you around. You should thank me though."

As soon as she finished her words, I turned around with my pistol drawn, my finger ready to squeeze the trigger in an instant. To her credit, she knew how I would react, as I was met with her pistol drawn in a stance mirroring my own.

We were in a stand-off.

I calculated the odds of me taking her out without being shot myself. The fierce determination in her face told me that she would not hesitate to shoot me if I moved.

How funny it would be for the two women that loved Thomas Shelby to die in a stand-off.

Despite the gravity of the situation, I began to laugh. Grace watched me curiously.

"So you are an agent of the Crown…... I will be goddamned. I was right about you. I have not lost my touch, after all. It is a shame that Tommy did not see through your facade. Too bad he will soon figure it out, when this is all over."

Her fierce expression faltered momentarily, as a myriad of emotions washed over her face. The complexity of the emotions told me everything that I needed to know to hone in on her weaknesses in the moment. I would have a little fun while I decided if I would murder her.

It was the only joy that I had left.

I had lost everything.

"So tell me Grace….did you grow to love him?"

She dropped her gaze for a moment, before bringing her eyes to meet mine. Gripping her pistol tighter, she answered me with a soft fierceness. As if it were her dying confession.

"Yes, I did. Did you?"

I sighed. Of course, I did.

"Yes. More than I can ever say."

She smiled sadly and softly. Keeping our pistols drawn, we studied one another. In many ways, I saw her in a new light.

As much as I wanted to deny it, I had underestimated her. We were both worthy adversaries in this game. It was only a shame that we both lost this game by a mile.

"In another lifetime, maybe we would have been friends, Antonina."

I smirked, thinking over her words.

Before I answered, I heard the small footsteps in the back of The Garrison, realizing that whoever had crept in did not want us to hear them. Only two people in the Shelby family had that light of footsteps. Both of the possibilities were the women who were still likely on my side.

I thought about the words I chose carefully, to make sure that I would be the one to win this hand, even if I had lost the game.

I would not forsake the rest of the Shelbys, even if Tommy had forsaken me.

"Maybe, Grace…"

I took a step closer to her, playing a fierce game of roulette.

"Although in another lifetime, I would have killed you where you stood before we even had this fucking conversation for what you did to his family and me. You saved me with the Inspector only to falsely betray me with Tommy to have him. You won. Funny that you did that even though you'll lose him, because you betrayed his family. You betrayed Ada and Freddie, during the birth of their son. Most of all, you betrayed Tommy. He deserves better than scum like you."

The malice in my words made her eye widen and she gripped the pistol even tighter. My cruelty in an otherwise pleasant moment had stunned her. As if she realized who she was, a sudden bravado took hold of her.

"If you murder me, you will be hung for your crimes for killing an agent of the crown. Remember, I have the power to arrest and the power to use force. Lower your weapon or I will shoot you where you stand."

I looked to her hand and I saw that it was shaking. Suddenly, I felt pity for her. She likely had never shot someone before. Here I was, the big, bad Antonina Paltrowicz threatening her.

Knowing my point had been made with whoever stood in the back of The Garrison, I took pity on her as I lowered my weapon. I saw her visibly relax.

My mercy was not to be mistaken for kindness.

I was not a fool. I would find further revenge another way.

"Grace, if I really wanted you dead, you would have bled out on this floor minutes ago. I am only letting you live, because you saved his life last night and you did not let Campbell extradite me back to America. My debt has been paid. I owe you nothing more. Besides, you're going to want to be dead after they finally figure out what you have done."

Grace said nothing, as she finally lowered her pistol. We studied one another.

She spoke, breaking the silence.

"You were a worthy adversary, Antonina Paltrowicz-Casey. I wish you luck."

"Goodbye, Grace Burgess. I will see you in hell."

I turned on my heel and I left the Garrison, without even looking behind me to see if Grace would shoot me as I walked away. In all honesty, I didn't care anymore.


	22. A Dying Promise: Part Twenty-Two

Author's Note:

Hello dear readers,

It feels surreal to write this author's note on the final part of the series, and yet, the final chapter is here. This has been a culmination of eight months of work. As I noted a few chapters ago, I intend to write this story through the fifth season of Peaky Blinders (possibly more, depending on the fifth series' story line). On that note, please do not be alarmed that this is the final chapter of this series: I will be publishing the first chapter of the next series very soon. Although I cannot spoil the intentions of the next series, Antonina will still be involved as she was before. The name of the sequel will be posted at the end of this chapter. Please let me know what you think, as always!

Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of my dedicated readers. Thank you for the follows and favorites. Thank you for all of the reviews. Thank you for my newest review from ngome055. I totally agree with you-nothing will be the same. I think that some of the greatest love stories have tragic parts, where betrayal and loss come into play. I also believe that love can conquer all. Sometimes, some of the most beautiful things are broken.

We will see.

So much love to you all!

xA

* * *

Part Twenty Two:

After leaving The Garrison, I did not want to return to Watery Lane to retrieve my meager clothing belongings. They were replaceable.

I silently thanked my fortitude to place the most important belongings in the handbag that I carried. I knew that my minutes were limited and I wasn't going to risk a further invitation to trouble to retrieve clothes that were replaceable. Although I did not think Tommy to be so cruel to wire my parents, his sudden cold demeanor with me told me that he was no longer the man that I had come to love.

Everything had shattered to pieces.

As it was, I had already wasted my time on seeking out Grace.

And yet, I knew that I could not leave Birmingham without doing one important thing.

Even with Tommy's warning hanging over my head, I could not leave Birmingham without thanking the man who had took me in on a dying promise.

Hoping to God that I remembered the address correctly, I knocked on Harry's door.

In a quick moment, he opened the door, motioning for me to enter quickly, locking the door behind him. My heart fell as I scanned his home. He would be leaving soon too.

As he read my facial expression, he sighed.

"I can't stay, Toni. Not after what happened with the coppers and the storm comin' with Kimber," he said. Because he had told Campbell where Tommy had went, he knew that he could not stay.

It was as if everything hit me at once with the realization that Harry also had to leave the city. I finally began to cry, the adrenaline leaving my bloodstream from my meeting with Grace.

"That makes two of us, Harry," I said, tears streaming down my face. He nodded, embracing me as I cried. I loved Harry for pretending to understand what I said, even though he had no idea. I began to explain.

"He thinks that I betrayed him to the coppers. It wasn't me, I didn't betray him, Harry. It was Grace. I didn't. I love him. He ordered me to leave or I will be as good as dead."

"I know that ya didn't, love. I know ya do. I'm sorry."

Sensing the urgency in the time, I knew that I needed to say my words and leave.

"I wanted to thank you for everything, Harry. For taking me in. For watching over me. For giving me a place to return to myself again. I am in your debt, forever. You are kin to me."

"Antonina, it was a pleasure. Now lass, I have somethin' for you."

He handed me two envelopes. The first held an undisclosed amount of cash. I gasped.

"I can't take this, Harry."

"It isn't from me, Toni."

"Who is it from?"

"Flip over the second envelope."

Curious, I flipped it over.

As soon as I saw the calligraphy on the envelope, my heart broke again. It was a letter from David. The money had been from David.

"In the event of his death, he wanted me to give this to ya. I wanted to give this to you from the moment that I had given ya the room, but I sensed it was the wrong timing. I waited to give the cash to you, when you decided Small Heath would no longer be your home. I'm not sure if now is the right time either, but there's no time. Goodbye Antonina and I wish you well," his pained expression bore into me as he led me out the back door.

"Thank you, Harry. For everything. I hope to see you again."

After one last embrace, he shut the door, locking it behind him.

I was alone. I took a deep breath to steel me for whatever lay ahead in David's final letter to me.

As I stood outside, I opened the envelope, sliding down to the ground against the brick buildings. I was a sitting duck and I didn't care.

Tears clouded my vision as I opened the envelope.

"Dearest Toni,

If you are reading this letter, I have departed this plane for the greater one above and you are in Birmingham. Please do not take pain in my departure. Although the short years we have spent together have also been a time of separation and longing, I treasure these days always.

I remember the first time I laid eyes upon you. It was late June 1916. You were such a beautiful sight to my eyes, even mad as hell as you were. You were on a stroll through McKinley Park. At the time, you were so mad that your face was flushed, matching your beautiful dress, and you were walking with such a purpose that you knocked me over as I had attempted to approach you. You gasped and swore in Polish, as you tried to pick me up (rather unladylike, I may add!). I literally fell for you there. I spent every day falling for you. Each time, you caught me with open arms. I will always treasure the strolls in the park, the days at the lake, and the stolen moments that we shared.

When we entered the war in 1917, you never hesitated to follow me to the ends of the earth, to hell literally. You joined the Red Cross as a nurse, just to be on the same continent as me. You gave up your family for me, although I had never meant for you to. The day that we married was the best day of my life. Although it was not the big affair that you had always hoped for, it was the best wedding that I could have ever hoped for. We only had three days together, before I left for France.

The best days of my life.

I write this letter in the trenches, in the deepest pits of hell. You have kept me alive through this nightmare. I tell the men of your spirit, of your fire. You have also given them hope. I only hope that fate will reunite us once more, but I fear that we will never see one another again. So I wrote this letter to you with a promise that you must make to me, following my death.

Keep your hope alive. Keep your spirit alive. Never give up.

Promise me that you will live on.

I know that your life has been forever changed. You have followed my dying promise to Birmingham. While it is not fair to ask this of you, I want you to also promise me that you will not give up hope for love. You will find love again with a man that loves you through your fire, through your past, and loves you through the present and future. The hope that you will love again gives me a great solace if I am to die in this war. Promise me that you will love again. Love as I have loved you.

Zawsze zakocham Cię,

David."

Zawsze też zakocham Cię, David, I thought as I tucked the letter away in my bag.

Even with the gunshots in the distance, I did not move. I sat glued to the spot for what felt like hours.

Let them come for me, I thought.

The tears and grief of the last months of my life threatened to consume me as I processed the enormity of his words.

He was right.

My life was changed forever. I had found love again...

But I lost it, because of my past. Because of business. Because of an Inspector and his agent.

The man I love had broken my heart, as he thought that I would be the one to have betrayed him. To hurt him.

He was a bigger fool than I could have ever thought. He couldn't see past his own cock in the end, as it had been Grace who had betrayed him along.

He couldn't love me through the present and future.

While I was breaking my promise that I would never leave him, he broke his promise to me: he had hurt me more than anyone could ever hurt me in the end.

Thinking back over the two loves of my life being lost, I realized that death had been much easier to grapple with, because it's involuntary. David had no choice to leave this plane.

Tommy Shelby willingly departed from my life, as he exiled me from the city.

I would never love again.

As the afternoon wore on and my bones became stiff, I knew that I needed to leave the city. I had overstayed my clemency. I was a wanted woman by the impending nightfall. As much as I had hoped a member of the Shelby family would grant me a pardon for my innocence, no such invitation would come quick enough.

Feeling renewed from David's letter and the cash supply to start again, I realized that I had made him a promise to live and I intended to keep it. If I could not keep the promise that I would find a new love to share a life with, I would not die over the loss of yet another great love in my life.

 **I was Antonina Paltrowicz. I could survive anything. I had proven as much so far.**

 **To survive, I would have to forget my life as Antonina Casey. After today, she would be no more.**

It was funny how this journey had come full circle as I walked down the streets of Small Heath in a seemingly aimless direction from Harry's home.

I breathed in the smog of Birmingham, as I willed myself to forget it all. David. Tommy. My new family. Love. Loss. Betrayal.

It was the only way that I would survive this loss. To pretend none of it ever happened.

Despite my heart being split into a myriad of fragments, I smiled to myself. I lit a cigarette as I walked to the train station, calculating my next moves. The action reminded me of my first days in Birmingham.

As the dusk ripped the daylight away from the city I arrived to the station. I looked at the schedule, briefly wondering where my next destination was. After a moment, I walked towards the track to decide. Upon my arrival to the tracks, I saw two solitary figures beside them. Inspector Campbell and Grace Burgess were in a deadly standoff, minutes before the train to London would depart.

Time suspended as a gunshot rang out in the Small Heath night.

* * *

As Tommy Shelby sat in the private room of The Garrison with a fresh bullet wound, he thought back about the tumultuous events of the day with a myriad of emotions.

He had started the day believing that his true love Antonina had betrayed him. By the end of the day, he realized that he had betrayed her in turn with his false accusations and bedding Grace. When Polly came to him to knock sense into him after the standoff with Kimber's men, he felt more foolish than he ever had in his life. When he searched for Grace, she was nowhere to be seen.

He had made the biggest mistake of his life.

If he hadn't had a bullet wound to be tended to or Danny Whizzbang's body to laud over, he would have sent for Antonina right then and there. Alas, the days' events had gotten in the way of what he truly wanted and needed: Antonina.

He knew that he needed to make this right. After losing Danny Whizzbang and being shot himself, he knew that things could have ended very differently today.

When the party began to wane at The Garrison, he realized that it was now or never. He silently hoped that she had not left the city, though he knew that he had used the one thing that he should have never used against her: her family.

Although he knew Antonina would not have returned to her small room above the pub, he knocked anyways. When there was no answer, he walked towards home.

He ran upstairs to their former room. His heart fell as there was no trace of her personal belongings, except for her clothing.

It was then that he knew that she was going to leave the city.

He found himself racing to the train station.

* * *

I made the decision before I had even thought out the plan.

The inspector cried out as my bullet found his leg. He toppled, overcome by the pain of being shot.

He promised to win the war, but he had lost it with the cost of his life.

Surprised, Grace Burgess whipped around in a breathless fever, before becoming crestfallen at the identity of her savior. I walked over to her. I smiled at her. She smiled.

She never saw it coming.

My forehead crashed into hers, headbutting her onto the pavement. She lay on the ground, writhing in agony. I grabbed the pistol that had scattered to the ground. I pointed the pistol at her and I shot, purposely missing her head, hitting the tracks. It was enough to deafen her momentarily. I leaned over, grabbing her by the neck to force her to look me in the eyes. I put my mouth close to her good ear, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully, Grace. Don't mistake this moment as charity. I knew that I could not have touched a hair on your head at The Garrison, because you were an agent of the Crown. Seeing as that status has been revoked, I could have killed you just now...but it would have been too easy for you. You deserve to live with all of this. You will never be one of us. If I ever see your fuckin' face on this continent again, I will carve a Chelsea smile into your face and let you bleed dry. Kind regards from Antonina fucking Paltrowicz."

The fear that I had invoked in Grace was unlike anything that I had ever seen. I dropped her head on the pavement, temporarily knocking her unconscious.

I plucked the ticket from her hand, replacing it with her pistol. As I backed up to the Inspector, never turning my back on her, I grabbed his pistol as he lay bleeding out on the Birmingham pavement, sliding it on to the train tracks below the railcars. While I hated the woman, I wasn't going to let the Inspector murder her where she lay.

I was ruthless, but I was not heartless.

In the cover of the night, he could have easily mistaken the culprit as Grace and retaliate as she was unconscious. Though I knew that where I shot him, he would be unable to do little of anything at this point but moan in pain, if he didn't bleed out to death.

Good riddance.

With any luck, the coppers would arrive to see the both of them on the ground before Grace would have the sense or consciousness to flee. They would also likely assume that Grace had been the one to shoot him for dead. When I said I would have my revenge somehow, I meant it with every fiber of my being...even if it could have cost me my life.

But what life did I have left?

As the train began to pull away, I boarded quickly, never bothering to turn back to look at the city I was leaving behind. I resolved to myself that I would never again return to this city willingly.

As the train entered the countryside, I finally let myself cry and relax into the seat, not bothering to acknowledge the looks from the other passengers.

In that train car, my heart was breaking into pieces a thousand times over.

I had come here on a dying promise from a man that I loved. Now, I would leave on a broken promise from a man that I loved.

* * *

When Tommy arrived at the station, he knew that he was too late as he saw the train in the distance. Despite this knowledge, he ran to the tracks where the London train had departed from.

It was there that he saw the most peculiar scene.

The two people that had betrayed him and sought to hurt him most, were incapacitated before him. Only one person could have done this to them.

And she was gone.

Even though he had hurt Antonina in a way that was unforgivable, she had still looked out for him in some way. A lump caught in his throat at the thought.

Grace's moans startled him from his thoughts. He walked over to her, bending down as a predator would crouch over his prey.

"Tommy…..it was Antonina….she did this..she is gone now," she said, almost breathlessly. Tommy looked her over, seeing if she had any gunshot wounds. A large lump was forming on her forehead and a bloody nose to match, but otherwise Antonina had left her rather unscathed.

It was the Inspector who took the brunt of it, bleeding out.

Tommy simply nodded, as he lit a cigarette.

"I know what you did, Grace. Polly already told me," he said, with a hard, cold edge to his voice. Grace's eyes widened and she said nothing.

"Grace, here is what you are going to do. You are going to leave Small Heath now. I will arrange for a way for you to leave the city. You will pretend that Antonina was never involved in this. You will never return to Small Heath for as long as you live. Do you understand me?"

Grace simply nodded, tears shining in her eyes. Tommy helped her to her feet, though he felt ill at her touch.

"But I love you, Tommy."

Tommy Shelby hung his head, trying to decipher through his thoughts. For a small moment last night, he had thought that he loved her, though it was only in reaction to his perception of Antonina's betrayal.

It all became clear.

"We don't love our enemies, Grace."

He turned from her, hoping to never see her face again.

As Tommy Shelby left the train station, he walked the near empty streets of Birmingham. He lit a cigarette, thinking about how just months before he had met Antonina in the streets of the city. When he came across the spot where they had first met, he pressed his palms into his eyes.

Now, the woman he loved was gone. She arrived in Birmingham on a dying promise from a man she loved. Now, she fled Birmingham, because of a broken promise from the man she loved.

* * *

Next Series:

Ghosts of Our Past: A Broken Promise


	23. A Broken Promise: Part One

Author's Note:

Hello everyone! As noted before, this will be the second series of my Peaky Blinders FanFiction story "Ghosts of Our Past." This series will coincide with the second series of Peaky Blinders. To understand the main original character's origins, looks, and story line, please please please go back to the first chapter of this entire story, under the title "Ghosts of Our Past: A Dying Promise." All of the story is under this story line, so it will be easier for my previous readers to keep up with the updates, as well as new readers to read from the first chapter of the first series until now. :)

As always, thank you for the follows, favorites, reviews, and support.

Please enjoy!

xxA

* * *

Ghosts of Our Past: A Broken Promise

1921

London, England

The smoke from the cigarette on my fingertips mixed in with the smog of Camden Town, as I looked through my bedroom window, watching as the workers dragged themselves to their occupations. Usually, I would be along them, walking to the bakeries to fix whatever mess was present from the night of debauchery and business before.

Instead, I was about to leave the smog covered haven for another.

I smirked at the thought. I could hardly call it haven anymore.

Despite every promise I made myself over these two years, I was returning to Small Heath. I sighed, as I flicked the cigarette onto the window sill.

I closed my eyes, thinking about it all.

It had been nearly two years since I left Birmingham for London. Thinking of the memories, I shuttered.

The first days in London were a blur. I barely slept. I barely ate. I had smoked triple the amount of cigarettes that I had ever had.

As soon as I had settled into a small, Polish neighborhood in Camden Town, I began looking for work. Although my skill set was highly desirable for employers, everyone was hesitant to hire me. Unfortunately, I was well known, because of my affiliations in Chicago and Small Heath. In their minds, Antonina Paltrowicz would only cause trouble.

I knew that I was living dangerously with the use of my maiden name.

In the early days, I had secretly hoped that my family would find me to finish the job.

I had prayed for death in the early days in London. I had nothing to live for. It was excruciating. In the wee hours of the night, I would curse God and my situation. I wanted to die.

Life was much harder than death.

But the sweet angel of death never came for me. That would have been too easy.

As if God were playin' a cruel joke on me, I received an invitation for a meeting from a notorious gangster in Camden Town. When I had received the invitation, I scoffed. I was always a magnet for trouble and gangsters. I knew that I could not refuse the invitation, so I simply accepted without a fight and I was taken away at once. As I rode in the automobile, I secretly hoped that it was my family delivering justice through an affiliate.

But when I crossed the doors into the Solomons' bakery, I realized that I had heard the name before, during the war.

When I opened the door to the boss' office, I began to laugh and cry at once. The man from the war that Arthur had reminded me of so much, was standing before me. Alfie Solomons welcomed me into his arms, as the emotions took over me.

We talked for hours about everything. The war. David. My time in Birmingham. Why I found myself in London (though it was painful to recount what had happened).

When Alfie Solomons offered me a position with him as a secretary, I was overjoyed. For the first time since the day before Black Star Day, I had felt something with the resemblance of hope again.

I thank the heavens above for his good will that day. During my time with Alfie, I had tried to return the kind favor. My résumé as a gangster, wartime nurse, and barmaid made me one of his most valued "men." His only request was that I went by a different name in London, to protect his business and his name from any more uninvited troubles. I agreed. It was a small sacrifice that I was willing to make.

Going forward, I became Anna Stepanova (Анна Степанова) during my time in London.

In return, he gave me the protection, money, and safety that I needed to start over. Alfie became one of my closest friends. He became one of the reasons to continue on, when I wanted to so desperately end it all. It was nice to recount my childhood days in Russian with Alfie.

My life began to return to a warped version of normality after a few months.

Finally, I had rekindled my friendship with Ada Thorne, though our initial meeting had been one of the most emotionally exhaustive meetings that I had ever had. I remembered every detail of that day.

* * *

"Hello, Ada," I said, as she welcomed me into her home. Freddie had taken Karl out, sensing the storm that lay brewing in the Thorne residence.

"Don't you fucking Ada me. Why didn't you write to me sooner? We thought you were dead, Antonina. After a few weeks, your name had hit a dead end. He thought...we thought ...that they had come after you."

"Who, Ada? My family? The Crown? Your family? I just have quite the list of people who want me dead now," I sighed, lighting the cigarette between my teeth.

If I had to endure this, then at least the nicotine could help me through it.

We stood in silence. She sighed, motioning for me to come sit in the parlor. As I sat, she poured me a glass of whiskey. We sat for a moment, before she answered the many questions that I had asked just minutes before.

"My family doesn't want you dead, Antonina. We figured out that it was Grace from the night that you left Birmingham. You can come home now, they can protect you."

I stopped breathing for a moment, letting myself think about the possibilities of returning. I sighed, shaking my head to will the thoughts away. I could not abandon Alfie like that, after all he did for me…..especially for someone who had betrayed me.

I had integrity. I had honor. I would not betray him for someone who willingly betrayed me.

"Your brother was the one to send me away, Ada. He threatened to contact my family if I had even dared to stay in the city past the day. London is my home now. Alfie Solomons is protecting me now."

Her eyes raised at the mention of Alfie Solomons, but I knew that issue was for another day. I shook my head, answering her silent accusation. She nodded, before continuing.

"He didn't mean it, Antonina."

I slammed my hand on the table, startling her.

"He meant every word."

Her eyes widened at my actions and I sighed, momentarily dropping her gaze. I was not Thomas Shelby. I would not intimidate others for them to see my point of view. I needed to reign in the emotions.

Four breaths in, four breaths out.

Finally, I spoke.

"I am sorry, Ada. I am sure he does not mean it now. But you know in the moment, he meant it. He broke my heart. He used the only thing that could ever hurt me more than his betrayal: my family."

She nodded, understanding. She grabbed my hand, holding it. I sighed, knowing that this had nothing to do with Ada. I know that she had moved away from Small Heath to place a distance between herself and the family. I looked for a safer subject.

What was safe anymore?

"So tell me what happened after I left Grace Burgess with a concussion on the train station's platform. Did she ever get arrested or is she safe now?"

"Unfortunately, no. She left before the coppers could come. But I knew that you had stuck it to her. Serves the cunt right," Ada said, smiling.

Despite the gravity of the situation, I found myself chuckling alongside Ada over the moment.

"He went to the train station, that night. To look for you-" she stopped, as she scanned my face for a reaction. I swallowed the unwelcome lump in my throat, nodding for her to continue.

While it was wonderful news that he had tried to come find me, it was too late.

It didn't change the present.

"He found Grace and the copper on the ground, both fucked up beyond recognition. She tried to pin the whole thing of her shootin' him on ya. Tommy sent her out of the city, tellin' her that she could never return to the city. He left the Inspector to bleed out. Served the fucker right. She apparently loved Tommy, ya know. But she betrayed him and Tommy wasn't havin' none of it."

I let a sad smile take over my face, realizing that Tommy had protected me. He knew that Grace wouldn't have shot the Inspector where I had.

I banished away the sentiment that I felt for him as quickly as it came. He owed me that protection after all that I did for him that day, despite his broken promise.

I lit another cigarette, looking to Ada.

"So is the copper dead?"

"No, but he needs a cane to walk now. Weird thing, they let Grace go too. She is in America now."

The outcome was better than I had even hoped. The Inspector had not died and Grace Burgess took my threat seriously. She was on a different continent. Away from here.

Knowing that I could trust Ada, I told her the truth.

"You know that I shot him, Ada."

Her eyes widened, as if she didn't believe me.

"When I walked to the station to leave, I saw the both of them clear as day. I did it in a split second. I shot the inspector first, then I headbutted Grace onto the pavement. I stole her ticket and I left the city."

"You what?"

"I headbutted her. I shot at her, purposely missing. I grabbed her by the throat and I told her that if I ever saw her on this continent again, I would give her a lasting expression."

"Don't you mean impression?"

"No. A Chelsea smile."

We exploded with laughter, likely two of three women to laugh at such a joke. It felt good to reunite with Ada, making fun of Grace Burgess like teenagers. It almost felt like old times.

Ada's next words were the reminder that I needed to realize that nothing was innocent anymore, like in the days of our youth. Nothing was sacred.

Nothing would return to what it had been.

"He misses you, Antonina. We all miss you."

"I miss you all too. So much. But Ada…." I took a deep breath.

"I will never return to Small Heath. I need you to know that I intend to keep in touch with you, but you can never ever mention his name to me ever again. You have to promise me that. "

She sighed, nodding her head after several minutes of silence.

"I promise, Antonina."

Sensing that the conversation was drawing to a close, I rose from the chair, turning to leave.

"Where can I find ya these days, Toni?"

"I work at the "bakeries" of Alfie Solomons as a secretary. If you need to ask for me, ask for Miss Stepanova. They'll know who you mean."

I hugged Ada, before returning to the streets of Camden Town.

Even though I could return to Small Heath, I would never return to Thomas Shelby. I couldn't bring myself to even mutter his name aloud. What he did was unforgivable and it would break my resolve to even so much as mutter his name.

Ada had kept her word to a degree-though she didn't mention his name after our first meeting, I know that he had been keeping tabs on me through her and she told him the bare bones of my life. It wasn't as if there was much to tell. I worked for Alfie, volunteered at the local hospital when I had the time, and spent my time reading to escape my reality.

I barely ate and I barely slept. I drank rum to numb the pain.

Soon after my meeting with Ada, I began to receive letters addressed to a Ms. Anna Stepanova from Tommy Shelby at my home.

When I saw the calligraphy, I knew who the letters were from.

As much as I wanted to burn them all, I had tortured myself reading the words of the man that I still loved repeatedly, despite it all. But his letters would receive no replies from me. I had nothing of novelty to say to him. Nor did he have anything of novelty to say to me.

I knew that he was sorry. I already knew that Grace was the one that had betrayed him. In his early letters, he apologized for bedding her as if that were the betrayal that I was so mad about. Sure, I was a bit mad, but after awhile I let it go.

In all reality, I knew in my heart that monogamy was a farce when it came to this life.

Ultimately, it was the betrayal of his words. The way his words became the only weapons that could truly wound me: using the threat of my family to send me away.

Truth be told, I didn't give a fuck about the sex compared to how little he trusted my word and resolve to always protect him. He had ordered me to leave the city without hesitation, threatening to out me to my family. It was unforgivable.

After a year of writing, the letters began to dwindle until I received the final letter from him in very late 1920. For reasons I couldn't explain, it had hurt me so much that he had given up on me. But I couldn't fault him for it realistically. It was if I had turned into a ghost as far as he was concerned.

Despite the fact that Thomas Shelby was one of the two great loves of my life, I never regretted my decision. I had hoped that I would never see this man again.

But life never worked to my advantage when it came to Tommy Shelby.

* * *

In the late winter of 1920/1921, Ada's husband, Freddie, became ill with pestilence. I resumed my nursing career to care for Freddie, despite the grave risks. I had wanted to so desperately save him for Ada. But there was nothing we could do for him.

He died in Ada's arms, early one morning in the February frost.

Following Ada's husbands' passing, Ada had asked me to go to the funeral to support Karl and her in Birmingham. Although I ashamedly wanted to tell her that I couldn't, the crushing pain that she was in broke my resolve. I knew this pain well, even nearly two and a half years later.

"Toni, I need you there. After all of the time that you took to care for him, I need you to there to help send him off."

I didn't hesitate when I told Ada my response. What other words could I say?

"Of course, Ada. I promise."

I never broke my promises when I had the ability to keep them.

Just days before, I made a quick visit to Alfie, to let him know that I needed to take a leave of absence for a death of a close friend. He understood, pressing a bottle of rum into my hand as his gesture of condolences. Despite my sadness, I smiled, hugging him. It took him by surprise. He chuckled, telling me in Russian to stop embarrassing him and to leave.

If only he knew how badly that I wanted to stay.

Looking at the small pocket watch Alfie had given me, I realized that it was time to go with Ada to the main station.

We said nothing to one another, as we were driven to the station by one of Peaky Blinders' men. Although she was in grief, she never shed a tear.

She was truly the strongest woman that I knew.

Before we exited, I squeezed her hand as we were led to the train.

The train ride to Birmingham was a blur, as I stared out at the passing countryside. I sighed at the beauty of it. How much I wanted to flee the train to run into the hills. To run from this life and start over. But I was no coward. I had to support Ada and Karl.

Thomas Shelby would not stop me.


	24. A Broken Promise: Part Two

Author's Note:

Hello everyone! As noted before, this is the second part of the second series of my Peaky Blinders FanFiction story "Ghosts of Our Past." This series will coincide with the second series of Peaky Blinders. To understand the main original character's origins, looks, and story line, please please please go back to the first chapter of this entire story, under the title "Ghosts of Our Past: A Dying Promise." All of the story is under this story line, so it will be easier for my previous readers to keep up with the updates, as well as new readers to read from the first chapter of the first series until now. :)

Please enjoy!

xxA

* * *

When we arrived in Small Heath that evening, another group of the Peaky Blinders' men picked us up in a nice automobile. I said nothing to anyone, as I entered the back seat with Ada.

I had nothing to say.

My mind was consumed by the storm that had occurred, just before I departed this cursed city forever.

Although Ada had begged me to stay with the Shelbys, I told her that I could not do it. That was the one thing that I could not do in all of this.

It surprised me that she accepted this without a fight. She kindly coordinated with another family member, likely Polly and Arthur, for me to stay in my old room at The Garrison.

They dropped me off first. It was only then that I found my voice.

I squeezed Ada's hand, telling her that if she needed anything, she knew where to find me.

It was late when I stepped into my old room. I was sure that it would be dusty like the chambers of my heart, when I turned the key to the door. However I was stunned to find that when I walked in, the air smelled heavenly.

Fresh red roses sat in a vase and fresh red sheets were on the bed. A fire was already burning. My belongings that I had left at the Shelby residence in 1919 hung in a new wardrobe. As I opened the wardrobe, I fingered the delicate, fine materials that I had rarely found occasion to wear anymore.

I sighed.

I didn't want to think who had been in the room to prepare it for me. In my heart, I had hope that it had been him. It was against all logic and common sense.

As I set my suitcase down, I stripped out of my dress quickly. I did not bother to wash my face or even comb my short hair. 

Turmoil clutched my soul.

I fell into a restless sleep rather suddenly.

* * *

The past two years of Thomas Shelby's life had passed rather painfully slow.

Nothing was the same after Antonina's departure. He could not focus on business. He lost his edge. He was a wreck. He withdrew into himself.

He sent all of his men to look for her. He held hope that he would find her again. He had to.

It couldn't be over.

Months seemed to pass like a ticking time bomb. Nothing was the same.

For the few few months of Antonina's absence, he was sure that she was dead. Once her name hit a cold trail in London, he knew that something horrible had happened to her.

His depression only grew deeper.

He could barely sleep. He left her clothes in the wardrobe like a shrine to her memory.

Despite the many conversations with Polly about Antonina, the hole in his heart would never close.

She was just gone. It was all his fault.

One autumn morning, he received word from Ada that Antonina was alive. She had been living under a different name. He begged her for information about her whereabouts. Ada gave in, likely due to the state that he had been in due to Antonina's loss.

When he learned of Antonina's whereabouts, he had sent letters to her for nearly a year, apologizing. He begged her to return to Birmingham. At first, he foolishly apologized for the infidelity, as if it were the sex with Grace had been what made Toni stay away from the city.

But in his heart, he knew what it was. He had accused her falsely of betrayal and he had ordered her away. He used the one weapon against her that could wound her more than any mortal mistake that he could make would.

Foolishly, he had hoped the letters would convince her to return. Antonina's refusal to return to the city and even to write him back solidified the very reality that he had fucked up more than anything he had ever fucked up in his life. He had broken a promise to her. His broken promise never to let another man or person hurt her. He had wounded her in a way that knives, guns, and violence never could. His accusation made in anger cost him the best thing that ever happened to him.

Every day of his life, he regretted what he had done.

Soon, the letters became one sided conversations about life. He wrote to her, as if she were writing back to him.

It acted as a numbing agent to the deep pain that he held.

Tommy began to return to the cunning gangster that everyone knew him to be.

After his sixtieth letter, he knew that he had to move on from his efforts. He could not live in denial. 

The efforts were made in vain. He had lost Antonina in 1919. She was nothing more than a ghost. It was as if she really had died.

Slowly but surely, life resumed almost to normal. 

The ghost of his past almost safely retreated into the distance until late February 1921.

When he received news of Freddie's death and Ada's return to the city, he felt a misplaced feeling of hope that Antonina would come.

Yet, his intuition was spot on: Ada confirmed that Antonina would return for the funeral. He personally prepared the room at The Garrison for her, when Ada sent word that she would not stay at the family home.

Still, he had hoped that she would change her mind and return to their former home.

When Ada and Karl arrived alone to the Shelby residence, his heart fell. Maybe she hadn't come after all. As Polly took Karl from Ada's arms, Ada caught his eye.

"She's here in the city, ya know, Tommy," Ada said softly. He stopped dead in his tracks.

"She?"

"Toni. She is in her old room at The Garrison. Now, I cannot make any promises that she will want to see you. But I thought that you needed to know before the funeral tomorrow-"

He left the room before Ada could even finish her sentence. He made his way to The Garrison.

He had taken the keys with him, nearly running the entire way to The Garrison.

As he arrived at the pub, he slowed his pace, walking up the stairs. As he turned the key, his throat was filled with a lump. He hadn't calculated his steps well, a first for a calculated man like Tommy. He just knew that he had to see her.

As he turned the key, the sight of her in bed took his breath away. Her hair was much shorter than he was accustomed to, though it was still the most beautiful chocolate brown. Her face was framed with straight fringe across her delicate forehead, with small waves comprising the short bob haircut.

Her face seemed serene, almost in bliss, aside from the dark circles under her eyes troubled him.

She had not been sleeping well in London. His eyes scanned down her body and he felt his heart in her throat: she had grown thin. Too thin. He sighed as he watched her sleep, turning to leave as he did not want to disturb her.

He had caused her this exhaustion and pain. He knew that she hadn't wanted to see him. She had returned to support his sister and nephew.

This had been a mistake.

As he turned to leave, it was the strangled cry of his name that made him stay and rush to her. As she began thrashing around in her sleep, he murmured to her that he was here, she was safe. He placed his hands around her arms, willing her to return to reality. To return to him.

* * *

The nightmares had found me as they did every night. Only this time, the setting and actors were different.

In the dream, I was walking along the streets of Birmingham at night. I knew that I was being followed. I quickened my pace, gripping my pistol as I ducked around the next turn. The footsteps followed. I continued to walk until I had turned unknowingly into an alley. I was not being followed: I was being herded like cattle. I stopped in my tracks and the footsteps stopped behind. Turning, I brandished my pistol. I felt the pain of the bullet hit my shoulder as I fell.

There was no time to even identify my assailants.

This was premeditated. They were looking for me.

I felt the blow to the head and my limbs relaxed, like dead weight. I struggled to remain awake. I was grabbed and carried to another alley, thrown down beside a man who had been already beaten.

Fitting company, I thought.

As I scanned the face, I started to panic. His face made me scream. I felt a hand clamp over my mouth. Despite the blood masking the identity of the man, it was his eyes that had given him away.

It was Tommy.

He had been lying on the concrete, nearly dead. His eyes widened, terror gripping him. He tried to reach out and he said my name.

"Antonina-"

He received a kick to the head.

My assailant chuckled, turning his attention to me.

"So it is you. Now Ms. Paltrowicz, you made this easier than we could have ever hoped. Tonight, you will die with Tommy Shelby. We'll let you go first, _amore_."

As the knife's glint caught the streetlight, I screamed Tommy's name as the knife had pierced my skin.

I woke up screaming his name, thrashing around in the bed as a pair of arms tried to subdue me. I should have been terrified, but I knew the identity of these arms anywhere.

 _Oh._

I was dreaming.

My subconscious had sent a nice dream to replace the terror. I relaxed, allowing myself to enjoy the calm of his presence.

"You came to visit me in my dreams again."

His look was troubled. Fuck, maybe that nightmare wasn't a dream and I am dead, I thought to myself. I considered this for a moment in my groggy state

"Huh, maybe I am dead and our murders weren't a dream. Funny, I used to think it would be David greeting me in death, but it is you. What a pleasant surprise. I always did consider you the love of my life, despite everything," I slurred, dreamily. His hands stilled, his blue eyes muddled by the fog that was glazed over my eyes.

"Love, if you were dead, I don't think I would be in heaven greetin' ya," my angel said to me, troubled.

Hmm, maybe I wasn't dead. Fuck. I would not be so lucky. I sighed, knowing that I had to wake up, because the dreams of my past would only make me wish it to be reality.

Strange. 

I blinked, willing myself to wake up from this dream and for him to disappear. But he would not go away.

My eyes widened and I gasped. This was not a dream.

He was here. Tommy was here.

His blue eyes, filled with worry pierced me.

"Tommy."

"Antonina."


	25. A Broken Promise: Part Three

Author's Note:

Hello everyone! As noted before, this is the third part of the second series of my Peaky Blinders FanFiction story "Ghosts of Our Past." To understand the main original character's origins, looks, and story line, please go back to the first chapter of this entire story, under the title "Ghosts of Our Past: A Dying Promise." All of the story is under this story line, so it will be easier for my previous readers to keep up with the updates. :)

As an **important** note for this chapter, there is Tommy Shelby smut within this part. This is intended for mature audiences only.

Please enjoy. ;)

xxA

* * *

Ghosts of Our Past: A Broken Promise

Part Three:

"Antonina."

I couldn't make sense of it.

My world had turned upside down again.

The man that tortured my dreams and haunted my heart was sitting before me, saving me from my nightmares as he had saved me so many years ago. It had been nearly two years, but it felt like a lifetime had passed before me.

I couldn't remember how to speak. We sat glued, searching one another's eyes for what felt like another lifetime.

I was conflicted. I wanted to be mad at him. I wanted to shout every foul thing that I could ever think of in Polish, Russian, and English at him. The logical side of my brain told me to smack him to America and back for what he did to me. I wanted to throw him out the window and tell him to fuck off straight to hell. I felt the anger flash through me. If looks could kill, he would have died a thousand deaths before me.

Searching his face, I realized that in my absence, he likely had. He had grown so much older in the two years that I was away from Small Heath. Exhaustion was etched into the skin next to his ever gorgeous blue eyes, like erosion on the world's most beautiful monument. His irises were an ocean filled with pain and longing.

It seemed unrighteous that a man like Tommy had to go through this much anxiety.

Despite my rationale, my heart broke for him. It broke for myself.

Suddenly, my anger dissipated. I was unsure how to proceed.

So I did what I had always done with Tommy Shelby during our first encounters.

I became overwhelmed with emotion. It was as if the flood of emotions from the previous two years had broken down the walls of my soul.

I began to cry, in a way that only matched the deepest agony in a person's soul.

The strangled sobs escaped from my throat. I tried to speak, but everything came out unintelligibly.

It didn't sound like any other language, but anguish.

He didn't skip a beat in comforting me. He grabbed me into his arms, murmuring whispered reassurances through my hair.

"Toni, it is okay, it will be okay. I am here."

For how long, I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him that his word meant nothing to me, but I didn't dare break the moment.

For the first time since 1919, I felt almost whole again. It made no sense, and yet, it did.

So I let myself believe that he would never leave me. He held me, even as I stopped crying. He stroked my hair, breathing in my scent.

I was ashamed at how quickly I had fallen to pieces in front of him. I had been imagining this moment for two years. There was so much that I had wanted to say to him. How strong that I wanted to be, to show him that I was okay without him.

But I couldn't find the right words, because I had missed him so much. I had been only existing without him.

Deep in my rage, the love for him never dissipated.

Truth be told, I was too tired to fight with him. I was too tired to send him away. My soul was on the edge of collapse at the thought of him leaving. Despite my pride, I needed him to keep from losing myself again in the grief.

But I was not weak. I would not be made a fool. I sat up, with a renewed purpose.

As he looked into my eyes, he leaned in, waiting for my next words.

"I am too tired to tell you everything that I want to say and I want you to know that you are not forgiven for how you sent me away like I meant nothing to you," I began, with a fierce determination to my voice.

It was brief and it faltered nearly immediately when I saw the regret displayed in his eyes.

He nodded, turning as if he were about to leave. Terror gripped my body and I latched onto him. "But Tommy, please don't leave me. Please stay with me tonight. Stay. Don't leave me here alone," I pleaded, on the edge of hysterics.

I couldn't breathe.

He cupped my face, burning my eyes with his gaze. I melted into his touch and I relaxed. The air returned to my lungs.

"Toni, I will never leave you. I am here."

"Stay with me."

"Always."

He put his forehead against my own, before rising from the bed, going to the front door. Despite my rationality, my heart began to pound at the thought of him leaving. I closed my eyes to breathe in a deep of fresh air.

As I lay in my internal realm of panic, he locked the door. As he walked to the bed, he undressed to his undergarments, slipping into bed with me. He blew out the nearly spent candle that lay beside my bed.

Soon, his arms found their way around me. For the first time in what felt like years, I felt myself fully relax against him.

Despite my exhaustion, I wanted to lay awake for hours, relishing in being held in his arms again. I didn't know if this would ever happen again. I clutched him tighter, drinking in the scent of Thomas Shelby.

As if reading my thoughts, he turned to look down at me, cupping my face.

"I will be here in the morning. I will be here every day with you if you want me to be. Go to sleep, _kochanie,_ " he whispered to me. My eyes filled with tears at the use of his Polish. When his attempts at Polish had appeared in the letters that he wrote to me, I had been so angry that he even tried. But now, as his smooth voice spoke the word to me, my anger melted away. He had learned some Polish to me to let me know how much I did mean to me. And I responded with silence. I had let my anger and pride get in the way of it all.

"Tommy?"

"Yes, Toni?"

"I am so sorry for never writing you back."

There was only silence between us for minutes. When he spoke, his voice was gruff with unshed tears.

"I wrote sixt-"

" I know. Sixty letters. I have them all."

"You kept them?"

He seemed surprised. He probably assumed that I had burned them all. While it was an impulse of mine, I couldn't bare to do it. I swallowed.

"I read and I kept every single one."

My words were met with no reply.

He only clutched me tighter.

As I relaxed into his embrace, I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

* * *

The early dawn shined through the window. Tommy woke up from a peaceful sleep, so peaceful that the nightmares had evaded him for the first time in two years. Since she left.

He realized that he was not in his bed. As he turned to the other body in the bed, he froze at the sight of her.

Last night had really happened. The memories of last night flooded his mind. Her words had broken and mended parts of his soul.

" _You came to visit me in my dreams again."_

 _His heart had broken at her groggy confession. She had dreamt of him, like her being filled his nightmares each night. So she hadn't forgotten about him._

 _His eyes regarded her wearily. Sensing his hesitation, her brows furrowed, studying him without really seeing him. A troubled expression crossed her face, replaced by peace._

" _Huh, maybe I am dead and our murders weren't a dream. Funny, I used to think it would be David greeting me in death, but it is you. What a pleasant surprise. I always did consider you the love of my life, despite everything," she slurred, dreamily._

 _He felt his heart stop in that moment._

 **She had regarded him as the love of her life, despite everything.**

Tommy knew that she was still mad at him. He understood why. Honor was everything to her. In her eyes, he had done the most dishonorable thing to her. He sighed, knowing that he had to earn her trust again. But maybe not all was lost. She kept every letter from him. It was a mistake to give up writing to her.

He checked the time of his pocket watch, sitting on the table beside the bed. They still had time.

He didn't know if she would ever want him this close to her again. So, he took advantage of the time that he had with her.

He gazed at her, studying her face as she slept.

He loved the way that her freckles had dotted her face like the most beautiful constellation in the sky. Her full lips had parted slightly, as she slept. He relished the times that he was able to kiss them. He stroked her cheek, pushing the short chocolate brown hair behind her ear.

She was heaven personified.

She began to stir, though he kept his hand on her cheek, gently stroking. She smiled, her eyelashes fluttering open, suddenly.

Her hazel eyes stared into his.

"Good morning, Tommy."

* * *

I felt the sunlight tickle my cheek as the dawn began to awaken the city of Birmingham. I felt more rested than I had in years. I felt a gentle stroke of my cheek, as someone pushed the hair behind my ear. The memories of my previous night came flooding back to me. I couldn't help it, a smile broke open upon my face. _Tommy._

I opened my eyes to see his blue irises, filled with longing. He was still here.

"Good morning, Tommy."

"Good morning, Antonina."

The tension filled the room, as there were so many things left unsaid between us. We had many questions left to answer. There was anger, hurt, bitterness, longing, and love pulsating through the room between us. I knew that this lay ahead, just before I fell asleep last night. I knew the trouble that this would cause us if we were intimate again before we had these difficult discussions. We had both done stupid things over the last few years.

Yet, I banished all of these thoughts as I pressed my lips into his.

It was never logic with Tommy and I in our private moments. Despite everything that we had put each other through, we still loved each other deeply.

He returned my kiss with a sense of ferociousness that I hadn't anticipated. I moaned in pleasure, in between his lips. He pushed my hands above my head.

"I missed you, Toni" he gasped, as he pinned me to the bed.

"And I, you, Tommy," I mused, as he lowered his hands to rip my shift to expose my flesh. Fuck, how erotic this was. My skin felt as if it were on fire as his gaze burned a desire into my flesh that I hadn't felt in two years.

He cupped my face, as he looked deeply into my eyes, before trailing kisses down my flesh. As he passed my belly button, my hips involuntarily flexed. I felt his fingers slip into me, as he continue to kiss down my body. When he met the apex of my thighs, he looked up at me before he placed his tongue onto my clitoris. I grabbed the sheets of the bed in response, moaning.

"Oh Tommy," I moaned as he continued to tantalize me with his mouth. I could feel the tension building, as my orgasm was near. As I began to grind against him, he grabbed my hips squeezing them to stay still. I felt his hands trail up to my breasts, lightly cupping them. When I came, I tangled my hands through his hair, crying out.

As the wave of pleasure receded, his face met mine with a passionate kiss. He broke it to look into my eyes.

"Antonina, have you been with anyone else since me?"

As much as I wanted to admonish him for how inappropriate the question was given the activities, I shook my head. He held my face as he kissed me passionately again.

As he steadied himself into me, I moaned in pleasure. He started off slowly, easing in and out of me, so that my body could get used to it. To him.

Soon, I began to match his pace.

In an instant, he flipped us over to where I was straddling him, facing him. I began to move up and down his cock, swiveling my hips. He began to moan, his hands grasping my back to meet me, thrust for thrust. Soon, we both found our release, our foreheads pressing into one another's as we came back down to earth.

We stayed like this for moments, looking into one another's eyes.

As the daylight began to move more intensely into the room, Tommy sighed, breaking our gaze. He began to get up, to get dressed. As he did, he turned to me as he did.

What a beautiful sight this man was.

"We have to go to the funeral soon, Antonina. I need to go home to change. Will you come with me?"

Lighting a cigarette, I thought for a moment before giving him my answer. It was not that I did not want to see everyone...I was not ready to have the difficult confrontations of who I had left behind in my flight from Small Heath.

Sensing my hesitation and qualms, Tommy sat back down on the bed, taking the cigarette from my hand. He placed his hands on my face.

"Antonina, they want to see you. They want a little joy in these times of sorrow. Please come with me. If they start to hassle you for not writing, I will remind them it was me who sent you away."

Feeling a lump in my throat at the mention of my exodus, I simply nodded. He kissed me, before releasing me. I got up to retrieve my things as he finished dressing. I opened my small suitcase to find the black dress, shoes, coat, and hat that I had packed for the occasion.

Quickly, I got dressed as Tommy began to smoke a cigarette waiting for me. He watched as I pulled the dress over my head, studying my every move as I pulled my stockings on. I quickly brushed my chin length hair and fringe into place. There was no need for makeup on a day like this, aside from the nude lipstick I dashed on quickly. I moved to put on my jewelry.

"You're much too thin, Toni," Tommy said, as I began to put on my jewelry. I shrugged, unwilling to entertain any conversation about it. Instead, I focused on putting on my jewelry. I put the small ruby earrings in, before putting on the small ruby necklace that he had given me two years ago to replace my wedding bands, though I had started to wear my gold wedding band on my right ring finger again in London.

As the recognition of the necklace and earrings washed across his face, he strode to me. He cupped my face, looking into my eyes with a rawness that cut me to my core. I knew the questions would come.

"You kept them?"

"Yes, Tommy. I have kept everything that you ever sent me or given to me."

"Why didn't you return?"

I sighed. I knew the question was coming.

"I just couldn't do it, Tommy. I was hurt. I was angry. I was prideful. In the beginning, I was afraid. I thought-"

He interrupted me, pressing his finger to my lip.

"I know. I am so sorry, Toni. More than you know."

I simply nodded. It felt stupid to continue holding the anger in my heart about something that seemed so petty now.

"I am sorry for what I said to you the last time that I saw you. It was cruel."

I had regretted my final words to him every single day since 1919.

He shook his head, interrupting my wave of regret.

"It wasn't anything less than I deserve to hear."

"I am sorry for not writing. I am sorry for disappearing."

He looked to the ground, before speaking. I felt my stomach drop to the ground.

"I thought you were dead, Antonina. I thought...I would never have wired the news to your family. I was lashing out. Like a petulant child. I kept tabs on you in the beginning. When your name went dead, I thought they had found you. When Ada told me that you were alive, I wanted to go to London to get you. Until she told me that you never wanted to speak my name again."

I smiled, sadly. So much time wasted.

"You wrote to me, though."

"Technically, I wrote to Anna Stepanova."

Despite the serious moment, I laughed. A sad smile crept at the corners of his mouth.

"We need to get going, Tommy. We can talk about this later."

I broke our embrace, slipping my shoes and coat on. I grabbed my small handbag, closing the door the room. Tommy locked the door behind.

We descended down the stairs, walking towards Watery Lane.

Seeing the city in the daylight, I realized that not much had changed in Small Heath with the exception of more factories and more buildings clouding the already grey horizon. As we walked, Small Heath residents tipped their hats at us. A few had widened eyes as they took in the sight of me. I raised my eyebrows in response. I must have looked like a ghost, returning from the grave.

"They look like they have seen a ghost," I muttered, lighting a cigarette.

"Rumor was that you died," he gravely said, lighting a cigarette in response to my own lighting.

"Ha ha, hell was full so I have come back," I said, inhaling my cigarette. Tommy stopped to look at me. His eyes held a pained look in them. Frowning, I touched his cheek.

"Tommy, I am only joking."

"Antonina...I cannot tell you how I felt when I thought you were really dead."

His admission came out barely above a gruff whisper. My heart melted.

"Tommy, I am here now. I am too wicked to be taken."

For once, Tommy was speechless, as he looked at me.

"Antonina, you are not a saint, but you are far from bein' wicked. You are like a fallen angel. Not made for heaven, but not made for this earth either."

I couldn't say anything as I shook my head. I didn't even know what to make of the comment. Maybe it was true.

"Let's keep walking Tommy."

He nodded his head, lacing his arm in mine as his response. We walked in a comfortable silence.

Soon, Watery Lane came into our sight.


	26. A Broken Promise: Part Four

Author's Note:

Hello everyone! As noted before, this is the fourth part of the second series of my Peaky Blinders FanFiction story "Ghosts of Our Past." To understand the main original character's origins, looks, and story line, please go back to the first chapter of this entire story, under the title "Ghosts of Our Past: A Dying Promise." All of the story is under this story line, so it will be easier for my previous readers to keep up with the updates. :)

Thank you to the new follows and favorites on this story! Thank you so much to ngome055 for the review. It made my day!

Enjoy!

xxA

* * *

Ghosts of Our Past: A Broken Promise (Series 2)

Part Four:

When we entered the Shelby residence on Watery Lane, it was if nothing had changed. The only exception was the ever busy betting dens were empty, due to the impending funeral.

For once, business had been stilled to commemorate the life and death of one of their own. It struck me only then, how much Freddie Thorne had actually meant to Thomas Shelby.

As Tommy let go of my arm, I began to look around the place, taking in the familiar sights.

As much as I should have felt like a stranger in their home, I felt like I was truly at home for the first time in nearly two years.

Suddenly, I heard a voice behind me.

"Antonina fuckin' Casey. You cut your hair."

I couldn't help, but feel tears brim my eyes at the sound of Arthur's voice. As I turned around, he swept me into a hug and I couldn't help the tears from cascading down my face. As Arthur pulled back, he took me in, frowning.

"Aye, you act like we are going to a funeral or somethin'."

Despite my tears, I scoffed at the poor choice of words.

"Arthur, show some fuckin' respect!"

Polly's voice rang out loud, echoing off the walls. I couldn't help, but laugh.

"Arthur Shelby, you haven't changed at all," I said, wiping the tears from eyes. I slapped his arm and he turned to greet Tommy. Tommy murmured something to Arthur and he followed him. They walked into the main office, shutting the door.

Feeling uneasy, I turned to Polly, who I expected to give me the cold shoulder for leaving without a trace.

Instead, she hugged me so tightly I thought that I would break into two. She whispered into my ear, as she held the embrace.

"It's good to see you, dear. I'm happy to see you made it out and back in one piece."

As we pulled away, I began to feel emotional again, for the second mother I had come to love and miss. How much time had passed.

"I'm so sorry-"

"You 'ave nothin' to apologize for. It's him who should be sorry. But you know it."

Hearing the words said aloud broke the chains of guilt I felt from within. I smiled a sad smile at Polly, before turning to greet Esme and John, who were preparing their children for the day.

"John, Esme."

I was never close with John, before I made my departure from Birmingham, but he nodded at me warmly all the same. Esme smiled at me, introducing me to their newest child.

"Hello beautiful," I said, cooing to the newest Shelby.

Even though I felt his presence as he entered the room, he didn't say much as he watched me interacting with their child.

"It's good to see you home, Toni."

Everyone stilled at his words. I smiled, albeit awkwardly as I handed Esme's child back to her.

Was I home? How long would I be?

As much as it may have seemed to them that I was back for good, I had a life in London to return to. I would not be returning to Small Heath to stay.

I didn't get the chance to dwell on this thought for long.

The sound of a pair of heels brought about a somber atmosphere into the room. As Ada entered, her eyes only found my own. It was painfully obvious that she held a cool relationship with the rest of the family.

"Antonina, can you help me with Karl? It's time."

I simply nodded, going to her.

As I took Karl into my arms, the Shelby family and I walked to the automobiles to head to Freddie's funeral.

As I went to climb into the automobile with Ada, Tommy grabbed my arm.

"Ride with me."

I looked to Ada, who simply nodded to me. She held Karl on her lap, as she looked out the window. Polly walked past me, sitting with Ada in silence.

I guess there was nothing left to say between Ada and her family.

As I climbed into the back seat of the automobile, Tommy climbed in with me. As the driver got into the front seat, I turned to him, perplexed.

As I lit a cigarette, I couldn't keep the displeasure out of my voice when I spoke.

"You're too good to drive yourself now?"

As he took my cigarette from me, he took a drag before handing it back.

"You're beginning to sound like Ada."

I looked at him, shaking my head.

"Well, she is one of the few people that I have been in contact with, outside of work all these years. She does rub off on you."

Tommy didn't answer me, as he lit his cigarette.

As we began to drive towards the cemetery, we sat in silence for a few minutes.

As I took the last drag from my cigarette, I felt the air change around us. It felt uneasy, as we both were searching for the words to confront the storm that lay underneath us.

Even though we had breached the subject in the room above The Garrison, I couldn't help but feel as if I didn't get to express how much he had hurt me. How much he had betrayed me. 

Even in the small room above The Garrison, I didn't feel as if we exorcisied the demons surrounding us. 

As the silence grew, I knew that our earlier discussion had not quelled the fire deep inside me. 

We had limited time, before we would join the others. I wasn't sure if we would ever be alone with one another again.

It was now or never.

I looked to Tommy, as his eyes began to search my eyes curiously.

"Are we ever going to talk about it, Thomas?"

"What is there left to talk about, Antonina?"

It felt as if I was slapped in the face by the audacity of his words. I couldn't keep my voice from rising higher and higher with every word that I spoke next.

"Are you fucking daft, Thomas Shelby? I am talking about how you sent me away all of those years ago like I meant nothing to you. I killed for you. I kept secrets for you. I planned business with you. I endured abuse from the Inspector for you-"

He interrupted me, his voice taking a gruff, albeit soft tone.

"What do you mean abuse? What did he do?"

I sighed, closing my eyes and breathing in deeply before continuing. Sometimes, the Inspector's face would come to find me in my nightmares. The memories of that evening had been one of the worst nights of my life.

"The night that you slept with Grace, I went to her home to save you."

I couldn't stop now. I had to continue.

He looked to the ground, as I spoke.

"I had just worked it out that she was an agent of the crown. After Harry told me her address, I came to kill her for you, before she would hand you over to the Inspector. But as I walked up to the residence, the Inspector was waiting outside. He watched everything. He-"

I stopped, swallowing.

"He grabbed my face and he forced me to watch it all. He threatened me. He threatened you. I snapped. I went to hit him in my anger and he was too quick. He nearly broke my arm, as he wrestled me to the ground. As a parting gift, he planned to rape me. It was lucky that I had my revolver in my dress pocket. I was able to get away."

Somewhere through the story, he had laced his fingers in my own hand, holding it. It was a minute, before he spoke.

"I can never tell you how sorry I am, Toni. For everything. I will make 'em pay one day. I will never let any man hurt you again."

Despite my anger, I began to cry in frustration.

"What does your word mean anymore, Thomas Shelby? This is the second time you promised this to me and you broke that promise before. What about what you did to me the next day, Thomas? You broke me. I had nowhere to go. I had to flee my home. I could have starved to death or my family could have come for me. You left me unprotected-"

Now it was Tommy's turn to lose his temper. His voice boomed through the entire automobile, his driver visibly shuttering at the scene.

"I sent men for you! I paid dozens of men to find you! I had every fuckin' intention to find you. I thought you were fuckin' dead!"

"Why didn't you come for me, once you learned where I was, Tommy?"

"You didn't want to hear my name, let alone see me face. I had to run a business, Antonina. The one that was still there when you left. Why do you think that I wrote to you?"

I stopped crying, sighing.

As I processed the information, I simply nodded, turning to look outside the window. As we passed the factories, I focused on the smoke pouring out of them. Much like Tommy and I were pouring out our feelings now.

It was minutes before he spoke. When he did, his voice had grown uncharacteristically soft.

"Toni, how many times do you want me to apologize? I have written it down over and over again. I am sorry, Antonina. I was never going to wire your family."

This much I knew to be true. In fact, I had always known it. I just needed to hear it said aloud.

And yet, I had nothing to say in turn.

At the moment, I could not offer my absolution for his sins in my eyes. It would take time to earn my trust again.

All I could do was nod my head yet again. I turned my head to the right to look at him, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes.

I had never felt more conflicted in my life.

I knew that Tommy Shelby was a good man, despite the many transgressions he had committed. A man who loved me, despite everything.

I needed to know one thing, which I didn't even know that I needed to learn myself, until the words came tumbling out of my mouth.

"Did you love her?"

He recoiled at my question, looking at me with the strangest look on his face. When he didn't answer me, I asked the question again.

"I asked you a question: did you love her?"

"I heard you."

"And?"

As he took a deep breath that seemed to last an eternity, he finally spoke.

"At first, I thought I did. But no, I didn't."

It was my turn to brood on the answer.

"How can I ever believe a word that you say, Thomas Shelby?"

"I wouldn't lie to you, Antonina."

I thought for a moment as I looked up to the roof for inspiration.

Nothing came from above; it only came from within.

"Okay. I believe you."

He nodded, lighting another cigarette.

The smoke seemed to cut through the tense atmosphere and I began to relax, taking the cigarette case from his breast pocket and lighting one of my own.

Soon, he began to search for a safer topic.

"So tell me about Alfie Solomons."

I nearly choked on the in-breath of my cigarette, as I processed the words.

"What do you want to know exactly?"

"How is business? Are you paid well? Are you enjoying the work?"

"What is it to you, Tommy?"

"I am curious."

"You're never just curious, Tommy."

Even so as I exhaled the smoke, I decided to be honest with him about Alfie. I realized how defensive I seemed.

"I have known Alfie for quite awhile, since the war actually. He was a captain. He was injured during a gas attack and I helped nurse him back to health. It was my lucky fortune that he remembered who I was. He offered me a job as a secretary at his "bakeries." I have worked there, since I arrived in London. I am paid well beyond what I deserve and he takes care of me very well. He offers me protection, provided I use a different name."

"What is Alfie to you, Toni?"

I turned to him, raising my eyebrows.

"Alfie is a trusted friend, nothing more. He is a fair man, albeit a bit off the wall sometimes. I work for him, Tommy. That is about it."

I shook my head, thinking about some of Alfie's unpredictable antics and behavior, when dealing with business.

"You're not his secretary anymore though. I hear you're one of his most trusted advisors."

I felt my head snap at him, turning to him. My mouth dropped open.

How did he know?

Of course. He had done his research.

"If you knew all of this, why did you ask me about him? Are you hoping that I will return to Small Heath? Because if so, the answer is no, not right now. I am not abandoning him. I am not abandoning the business. You should know me by now, Thomas. I honor my commitments. Can you say the same?"

Ignoring my goad into an argument, he continued the conversation.

"I am not asking you to. I only wanted to hear your opinion on the matter."

I narrowed my eyes at him, contemplating his motives.

"Why?"

"I am thinkin' about expandin' business to London."

Despite the serious context of the situation, I began to laugh. This was beginning to be a comedy on a day of tragedy.

No matter what, it always seemed that business was on the forefront of his mind. Nothing was ever an innocent conversation with Thomas Shelby. Had I not learned from my mistakes?

"You are fuckin' crazy, Thomas Shelby. Absolutely mental. Are you planning to get involved in the racial turf wars?"

He shrugged, continuing to smoke his cigarette. I shook my head, continuing my train of thought.

As much credit as I gave Thomas Shelby, he was truly unprepared for what lay ahead in London. For once, I had the upper hand on business when it came to this world.

"This isn't Birmingham. People die everyday in London. This is different than what Small Heath is, Tommy. This is like Chicago. One wrong turn into someone else's turf and you're dead. Who are you planning on provoking? I assume since you asked about Alfie that is either us or the Italians. So who is it going to be, Tommy?"

His jaw became tense, as he replied.

"So it's an 'us' now, aye? You and Alfie?"

I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

"Oh fuck off, Thomas Shelby. I already told you that Alfie is just a friend. But this concerns me. You will put me in danger if you want a war between the Jews and you. Alfie doesn't hurt women and children, but I won't be dealt with nicely if that's your plan. He may be fond of me, but fondness ends rather quickly when it conflicts with business."

The driver's eyebrows raised and I saw the tense look on his face, reflected in the rear view mirror. I rolled my eyes. Obviously, the driver was new. He didn't know me.

"I don't have any plans to put you in danger, Antonina. I plan to make alliances with him. I have a plan. Can I count on you to facilitate that, when the time comes?"

As he searched my eyes, I began to shake my head. The audacity of this man.

"You're asking a lot from the woman you've done so much wrong against, Thomas Shelby. Was this why you fucked me this morning? Was this part of some calculated business move, a clause in the contract? Was I just another Grace Burgess to you?"

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opened them, a different emotion flickered through the blue irises I had come to love and dread seeing over the years.

"You will always be the love of my life, Antonina Casey. This morning was about us. This is about business. You know how I feel about you. Don't mistake this for somethin' else, Toni."

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath to reign in my anger. Four breaths in, four breaths out.

When I opened my eyes, I turned to look at Tommy. As he watched me, love ever-present was in his eyes.

He was not playing games with me, as much as I wanted to think the worst of him.

I did not know why he wanted to do business in London, but this much I knew to be true: he did love me.

As I felt the tides of my anger recede, I caressed Tommy's cheek. He took my hand, kissing it.

Soon, the automobile came to a slower pace, as we arrived at the cemetery.

Tommy looked to me.

"Antonina, can I count on you or not?"

Either way, I was in danger. Safety was never an option, where Thomas Shelby was involved. I had to make a decision quickly.

Trusting my instinct, I answered.

"Yes. You have my word that you can. But I need to have your word that I will be protected. If anything goes wrong, you better fix it quickly. I will not be a pawn in your game. I will not end up dead. Do you understand me clearly?"

"I understand. I will keep you safe, Antonina."

I nodded, as the car stopped. As the driver opened his door, he motioned for me to step out with him.

"Come, we are here."

As he took my arm in his, it seemed fitting that we were walking into a cemetery.

Tommy Shelby was playing a dangerous game. In the blink of an eye, I had become involved within it again.

This time, I hoped good fortune would find us. I only hoped that it wouldn't cost us our lives.

* * *

As we stood around the grave of Ada's lost love, I caught myself watching her as the priest delivered his words for the occasion.

Although selfishly I had wanted to stand alongside the other Shelbys, I took a spot next to Ada in front of the Communist Party and their banners. As she held Karl in her arms, she wore a brave face through it all.

She was one of the strongest women I knew.

I put my arm around her, giving her a friendly squeeze. Her eyes looked into mine with eternal gratitude. I loved this woman like a sister.

Time and time again, I caught Tommy's eye through the funeral. He never seemed to take his eyes off of me, occasionally flickering his eyes to Ada and back. Even as I narrowed my eyes at him, he never moved his eyes.

His eyes staring at me sent me into a whirlwind of misplaced thoughts.

Could I forgive him?

Was this forgivable?

Could I allow him into my life again?

Soon, the priest asked everyone to bow their heads to say a prayer. As everyone bowed their heads, I found myself looking to Tommy again. All throughout the prayer, we kept our eyes locked on one another.

I realized in that moment, it was too late to answer these questions.

By laying with him in the morning and agreeing to do business with him, I had already allowed him into my life doing so, I had begun the process of forgiving him.

I did not know if it was forgivable, what he had done.

But I would try to forgive him.

Because that is what love is.

As everyone raised their heads, Tommy came forward to say a few words. As he spoke, Ada began to quiver with emotion. I grasped her tight.

"I promised my friend Freddie Thorne that I'd say a few words over his grave if he should pass before me. I made this promise before he became me brother-in-law when we were in France fighting for the King."

"Amen."

"And in the end it wasn't war that took Freddie. Pestilence took him, despite the best efforts to save him. But Freddie passed on his soul and his spirit to a new generation before he was cruelly taken."

As Tommy finished his speech, I felt a lump form in my throat.

I thought about the memories of the times that I spent with their family in London before the pestilence took him.

In those rare moments, I felt like I was a part of the family again.

I ached for Ada, as she so cruelly had to experience what I had.

The death of your husband.

"I am so sorry, Ada," I whispered to her.

She turned to me, with tears in her eyes.

"Thank you for being here, Toni."

Soon, the dirt was thrown on his grave and the burial took place. We all said goodbye to Freddie Thorne.

As people began to walk away from the grave, Tommy asked Ada to speak privately. John's kids took Karl with Polly watching over. I found myself walking with Polly to pass the time. As we walked in silence, a question was burning deep inside me.

"Did you know about London, Pol?"

She turned to look at me, taking her attention away from the children. She sighed, before answering.

"Aye, I did. I don't suppose you will be returning to Small Heath, given your tone."

"Aye, you're right about that, Pol. Tommy has asked me to help him in London, when the time comes."

"If he mentioned London to you, I figured he would, though I told him what a bloody fool he was to ask you."

"I agreed to do it, Pol."

Polly looked at me as if I were as crazy as Tommy was.

Likely, I was.

"Antonina, forgive me love, but do you know what you're doing?"

I looked overhead as the crows flew across the sky above the graves. Ignoring the omen, I spoke.

"I have seen and done a lot of things in my life, Polly. I will figure it out. I always do."

She nodded, not saying another word on the subject. She turned her attention to the children, stopping them from taking flowers from the graves. Despite the disrespect, I had to smile.

How innocent it was to be a child.

Soon, Polly walked to greet Ada and Tommy, cautiously beginning conversation with Ada. I noticed that rather soon, Ada became frustrated with the conversation at hand. She walked away, towards my direction.

When she met me, I handed her a cigarette, lighting it for her. The frustrated look on her face told me that Tommy had brought up London with her.

We stood, smoking, before Ada broke the silence.

"I am taking Karl and going home _to London_ soon. Do you plan to stay a day or two, or will you be heading back with me today?"

Looking at Tommy and Polly together in deep discussion, I realized that I couldn't leave just yet. I needed to sort a few things out before I headed back to the bakeries and my life.

"I will take the train back tomorrow. I have some loose ends to tie up here."

Despite the situation, the corner of Ada's mouth twinged.

"I am sure you do."

Turning to Ada, I gave her a hug, before bidding her goodbye for the time being.

As I walked over to Tommy and Polly, I stopped at the appearance of a man on a motorbike, driving up to the funeral party. As he talked to Arthur, a deep churning took place in my stomach.

I looked to Tommy, as Arthur began to rush to him.

As they met, I overheard the words that sent chills down my spine.

"There was an explosion. The Garrison has been burned to the ground."


	27. A Broken Promise: Part Five

Hello everyone! As noted before, this is the fifth part of the second series of my Peaky Blinders FanFiction story "Ghosts of Our Past." To understand the main original character's origins, looks, and story line, please go back to the first chapter of this entire story, under the title "Ghosts of Our Past: A Dying Promise." All of the story is under this story line, so it will be easier for my previous readers to keep up with the updates. :)

Enjoy!

xxA

* * *

Part Five:

I couldn't believe my eyes, as we pulled up to what had been The Garrison.

Looking to Tommy with my eyes wide, he looked at me, lighting a cigarette. He gave it to me, before lighting another for himself.

"Did you have anything of value in that room upstairs?"

Thinking over what I had left upstairs, I shook my head. Everything that I had of value was on my body. I had learned over the years to never get too attached to the items that I could not carry with me.

You never knew when you needed to disappear.

Realizing that Tommy was waiting for my answer, I spoke.

"Just my small suitcase and dresses."

"I'll buy you even nicer things, Toni. Don't worry 'bout it."

I shook my head again, thinking about how my items were nothing in comparison to the loss that they had sustained with the pub.

I looked around me, as Tommy and Polly went to the lone police officer on the scene to discuss what had happened to the pub. The entire block had been fighting the blaze from whatever had taken The Garrison.

Hearing Tommy mention that it was likely the gas line put in, I realized that he had been obviously covering something up. A faulty gas line would have caused the entire building to explode. He was not a fool: he knew it was a deliberate action against him and the Peaky Blinders.

Who was stupid enough to do it?

The biggest question was, who had he crossed?

As I walked past the trio, I heard the police officer advising me not to enter the building. It had not been cleared by the fire marshall. I put my hand up, silencing him.

I needed silence to think.

As I entered the building, the sight of green confetti filled my vantage point.

There was only one group of people who could have done this. From David's stories of his youth, I knew exactly who was to blame.

I scooped up the confetti with my gloved hand, walking back to Tommy and Polly.

"This was all over the place."

Polly looked to me, before turning to Tommy.

"Who did this to us?"

It shocked them, when I replied to Polly's question, before Tommy even had the chance.

"I know who it was."

And I did know.

It was the Irish.

Without responding, Tommy quickly paid the police officer to leave the scene, thanking him for his time.

As the copper walked away from the scene, Tommy lit another cigarette. It was a minute before he spoke.

"Toni, how did you know?"

I looked at him, raising my eyebrows. How quickly he had forgotten who I was.

"Do you forget where I come from, Thomas?"

Polly raised her eyebrows, shaking her head at the two of us as she walked towards the entrance to the pub to see the confetti all over the ground.

Tommy looked at her, before speaking again.

"I need you to go back with Polly. I have some business to attend to."

Raising my eyebrows to his order, I shook my head.

"You shouldn't go alone, Thomas."

With a pointed look, he shook his head.

How easily things had returned to some resemblance of normal between us. Him giving orders. Me refusing them.

"Antonina, absolutely fuckin' not. I want to ensure that you're safe. You could have been in there."

I took his cigarette, taking a drag from it. I couldn't help, but feel annoyed at his comment.

"When will you learn, that I'm stronger than I look, Thomas?"

"Toni, this is not a game. I know that you are, but I'm not gonna put you in danger again. Go with Pol. I'll meet you at home, when I'm done."

Sighing, I reluctantly agreed.

"Fine. If you're not back by sundown, I'm finding you. Do you hear me?"

"You're not leaving Watery Lane, Toni. End of discussion."

I sighed, throwing up my hands in annoyance.

Taking my face, he kissed me tenderly, before talking to his men, likely giving them orders to watch over me and Pol.

Even in my annoyance, I felt my insides warm at his romantic gesture.

Soon, he set off down the street towards the Irish side of town.

I just hoped that he knew what he was doing.

As Pol exited The Garrison, I informed her of his plans. Soon, we were taken back to Watery Lane by his men.

* * *

It seemed like the day continued to drag by without an end, as I sat in the main office of the betting dens, waiting for Tommy to return.

With each passing minute, I knew that Tommy was likely in some unfortunate situation, alone.

Likely outgunned, though not outwitted.

As I paced the office for the hundredth time, I realized that I had yet again become the person I hated.

A woman waiting for a man to finish business.

I sat down, loudly sighing.

Looking in my small handbag, I saw the knives that I had brought along and the small pistol given to me by Alfie.

Setting them out in the table, I contemplated leaving, hoping that I wouldn't be seen.

"Don't even think about it, Toni."

Gasping, I looked up to see John, closing the door to the office.

As he walked over to the side table, he began to pour two whiskeys. He sat one down in front of me, taking the seat across from me.

Silently, we toasted.

In truth, I felt slightly uncomfortable. Ever since the family meeting over his failed plans to marry Lizzie, we had little chances to speak before my untimely exile from the city.

What did I have to say?

Mistaking my unease for my anxiety over Tommy, he began to comfort me.

"Tommy knows what he's doin'. Don't worry, Toni."

I simply nodded.

Truth be told, I knew that Tommy could get himself out of almost any situation.

It was this conversation that I felt uneasy about.

I decided to change the subject.

"How do you feel about the London expansion, John?"

John sighed, offering me a cigarette in response, before lighting one of his own.

A few moments later, he spoke.

"I don't know, Toni. I don't 'ave any answers to the questions I 'ave about this expansion. I keep askin', but I'm getting nothin'. Pol' told me that I need to be a man of answers or else they'll find someone else for the job when the time comes."

Suddenly, I felt pity for John.

Ever since I met him, the slight air of innocence to him made me think that he wasn't always destined to be in this business.

He wasn't like the others.

He could be ruthless, but he always held this boyish charm to him.

Mulling it over, I gave him the best advice that I could muster. Something I would say to my younger brothers.

"You'll get the answers with experience, John. Don't worry about it. Here's my advice: you need to be confident even when you don't have the answers. Trust your instinct. You've got a good soul," I said, before adding as an afterthought, "maybe too good for this business."

He exhaled smoke, mulling over my words, before responding.

He seemed troubled, as he spoke.

"How do you know so much about business, Toni? You're the only other woman I know besides Pol' who knows so much about this and who isn't bothered by it all."

Truthfully, I was speechless at his response.

I furrowed my brows, looking at him and searching for an answer. I realized in that moment that while the family knew I was involved in this business, they didn't know the depths of it.

Likely only Tommy and Polly knew the importance of my role. But even they didn't know what I had actually done.

"I ran Chicago with my family, John. I was a lot like Tommy, I suppose. My parents made the ultimate decisions of expansion and goals, but I was the mastermind behind how to achieve it all. I decimated competitors. I helped them kill a lot of people and take a lot of money, businesses. I was ruthless, smart, and a master of manipulation. Anything that we wanted, I made happen. We were untouchable...well, they are untouchable."

"Were you an only child?"

"No, I have brothers. They are younger than I am."

"Why didn't they do what you did, instead?"

Sighing, I drank a sip of my whiskey. Men always thought women didn't have a place in this business….even though we seemed to run it all.

"My parents saw my looks, my intelligence, and my skills as a valuable asset. Men don't think women can kill and scheme like they can. But I can shoot better than anyone I know in Chicago...aside from one other person."

I shivered, thinking about one of the few men that I feared most in this life. The man who maimed me.

John's next words took me away from my thoughts.

"Why did you leave?"

"The war and love. When it was over, I couldn't return. I'm sure someone has told you some of it."

He nodded, before continuing.

"I can't imagine your own family doin' that to you."

"It was a lifetime ago."

"Do you ever miss it?"

I looked at him strangely, because technically I was still involved in the business. He seemed to understand, rephrasing his words.

"I meant with your family."

I thought for a moment.

"Yes and no. I only miss my brothers. I miss the power that came with it. If I was home, I wouldn't be sitting here waiting on Tommy. I would have been the one to go and negotiate, or I would have gone along to ensure nothing bad happened. No one would have dared touch a hair on my head. I was very respected and feared in Chicago. "

John looked at me, before continuing.

"I think you still are, Toni."

Soon, a knock interrupted our conversation. Finn asked for John, nodding me as he saw me. I felt a lump in my throat at how much Finn had grown over the years. He was no longer a child, but a young man.

Sighing, I looked out the window as the night overcame the day. It was twilight and yet, there was no sign of Tommy. Collecting my knives and pistol from the desk, I quickly looked out the hallway to see if anyone was watching.

The main members of the family had gone into the main parlor, likely waiting for Tommy to return for the previously scheduled family meeting. As Finn shut the door, I watched to see the rest of the Blinders men busying themselves with whatever trivial tasks they had been given.

For once, it was a blessing that I was not invited to participate in the family meeting. It gave me the chance I needed to leave.

When the coast was clear, I snuck out the front door, as silent as a mouse.

The brisk air in the streets chilled me to the bone as I set out down Watery Lane.

As I turned the corner just a few streets away, a set of strong arms grabbed me from behind.

As I went to scream, a familiar calloused hand covered my mouth.

Immediately spinning around slipping out of his grasp, I brandished my butterfly knife, barely pressing the dull side to his throat to send a message across.

He raised his eyebrows at me, a small smile playing upon his lips. Looking down at the knife pressed to his throat, he licked his lips looking into my eyes.

"Here I was protecting you from the Irish, but it turns out I needed to protect meself from you."

I chuckled at his response.

"Thomas Shelby, for a man who has a death wish, I could have been the one to deliver it to you," I said, as I slid the knife out of my wrist, before depositing it in my handbag.

"I thought I told you not to leave, Antonina," he said, as he laced his arm in my own, leading me back to the family home.

"I don't like waiting on a man….even you, Thomas Shelby. You began to worry me, when it became twilight and there was no sign of you. I told you that I would come for you."

Although my tone was jocular, he failed to smile. Instead, a flicker of worry crossed his face.

Something had happened.

Furrowing my brows, I continued to speak.

"What happened, Tommy?"

"Antonina….tomorrow before daylight, I need you to return to London. I am going to have my best men take you. Under no circumstances are you to leave anywhere by yourself until then."

My arm fell out of his and I stopped walking. The breath left my lungs, as I looked into his eyes.

Had he already grown tired of me?

Was he ashamed of me?

As if answering my silent questions, he shook his head.

"Don't think the worst of me, Toni. It isn't because I don't want you here and you know that."

"Then what is it, Thomas?"

He breathed deeply, as he looked at me. Lighting a cigarette, he began to speak with a grave tone.

"Inspector Campbell….he is coming back to Small Heath."

Ice ran through my bloodstream at the mention of his name. My breathing became erratic, as my hands began to shake at the memories of the cold spring night, all of those years ago.

Tommy grabbed my face, kissing me back to reality.

"He isn't going to hurt you again, Antonina. I swear my life on it."

As he pressed his forehead to my own, I looked into his eyes.

"Mark my words, Thomas Shelby. If I see him again, I will kill him."

Campbell's death sentence had been written in blood, since the evening at the train station. I dreamed about taking his life, the minute he threatened my safety.

Shaking his head and pulling away, he began to lead me down the street again towards Watery Lane.

As we entered the betting dens, I started to head back to the main office to wait for him to conduct the family meeting.

"And where do you think you're going?"

I cocked my head, turning to look at him. When my confused expression gave my answer to him, he shook his head, motioning to me to follow him.

"Antonina, you know you're always welcome in these meetings. Besides, we need to discuss London."

Taking his hand in my own, he led me into the main parlor.

When we entered the main parlor, Tommy began the meeting rather quickly, after interrupting John's objections about the expansion. I felt the various eyes on me, as I sat beside Arthur

"Welcome back," Arthur whispered to me. I smiled at his kind words.

Arthur always had a soft spot in my heart.

As I turned to look at those in the meeting, I caught Esme's eye across the room, as she sat on the stairs. She looked at me with curiosity and a hint of envy, as if she couldn't understand why I had a seat at the table and she did not.

In truth, I understood her thinking.

Still, I cocked my head, keeping her in my line of sight.

Not taking her eyes off of my own, she spoke, interrupting the silence.

"I'm told only family are allowed to speak."

Raising my eyebrows, I looked to Thomas, whose eyes flicked to my own, before returning to Esme's gaze. Soon, he answered her.

"Everyone's allowed to speak. On your feet, Esme, let's hear what you have to say."

"I speak for our household, so-" John began, before being interrupted by Tommy.

"John, this company is a modern enterprise and believes in equal rights for women. On your feet, Esme."

I smirked and struck a match, lighting a cigarette.

Soon, Esme spoke.

"I'm not a blood member of this family but perhaps, indeed, because I'm not a member I can see things in a different light. So I'll get to my point."

"That would be nice," Polly said, irritation lacing her words.

"As my husband said, Shelby Company Limited is now very successful. But London I have kin in Sheperd's Bush and Portobello. It's more like wars between armies down there. And the coppers fight side-by-side with them. And there are foreigners of every description.."

As she said this, her eyes flicked from Tommy's eyes to my own and back again.

"And the use of bombs is the least of it. I have a child, blessed with the Shelby family good looks. I want John to see him grow up. I want us to someday live somewhere with fresh air and trees and keep chickens or something. But London is just smoke and trouble, Thomas."

"Thomas?" Polly said, looking as if Esme was out of her mind for using his full first name.

"That's all I have to say."

Esme sat down, as the rest of us mulled over her words. I stubbed out my cigarette, taking a sip of whiskey.

Mulling over the bit about foreigners, it became clear to me that Esme did not trust me.

While she was rightfully expressing her worries about London being a different sort of war among businesses, it was evident that she viewed me as an outsider to the family.

An intruder.

"That was a lot of words, a lot of words. Wash them down with a nice drink," Arthur said to Tommy, handing him some whiskey.

I studied Esme, as Tommy began his piece on the subject.

"Thank you, Esme. Firstly, the bang in the pub was nothing to do with London. Understood? The bang is something I'm dealing with on my own. Secondly, we've nothing to fear from the proposed business expansion so long as we stick together," Tommy said, his eyes flickering to my own, before he continued.

"And after the first few weeks, nine tenths of what we do in London will be legal. The other tenth is in good hands. Isn't that right, Arthur?"

"That's right."

"Now, you all may be wondering why I have asked Antonina to be in the family meeting today," he said, taking a sip of his whiskey. All of the eyes flickered to me and I kept my expression stoic.

"Antonina works for someone that we hope to gain a business partnership with. She has agreed to facilitate an important role when the time comes."

Everyone seemed to absorb the news well, nodding their heads, except for one person.

Esme shook her head, looking at me. I cocked my head, raising my eyebrows at her. She shifted on the stairs, appearing uncomfortable under my intense gaze.

Tommy noticed this exchange, cutting through the tension with his directness nature.

"Esme, do you have something further to say?"

It was a minute before she spoke.

"Well, how can we trust her, when she's working for the Jews? How do you know she won't betray the company?"

I never took my eyes off of her, as I took the last inhale of my cigarette and stubbed it out. She watched me as I did it.

Although she didn't trust me, she saw me for what I was: someone that could ruin a business in a well-crafted plan.

At once, Polly snapped her head in Esme's direction, narrowing her eyes at her. As Polly opened her mouth to speak, Tommy interrupted her.

"Antonina has done more for this family than you will ever know. She helped lay some of the very foundation to make this company as successful as it has been. I trust her, just as I trust my kin. I suggest you do well to remember that, Esme."

A tense silence filled the room after Tommy spoke. Not bothering to turn in his direction, I began to speak.

"If I may speak, I assure you that my honor does not need to be questioned. I have given my word and I will keep it," I said sharply, looking to Esme before looking back to Tommy again.

Thomas nodded, before beginning again.

"Now, some of you in this room have expressed their reservations. Fair enough. Any of you who want no part in the future of this company, walk out the door."

All eyes went to John and Esme.

"Right now. Go raise your chickens."

Tommy continued, after no one dared move a muscle.

"For those of you with ambition, the expansion process begins tomorrow."

As Thomas stubbed his cigarette out and walked out the door, the meeting had ended.

Lighting a new cigarette, I sat for a moment, wondering what Tommy had meant by starting the business expansion tomorrow.

As people began to filter out, Polly squeezed my shoulder, before sending a pointed look in Esme's direction.

Soon, the room was left with only Esme and myself.

She began a cautious walk towards me, sitting across from me. Offering her a cigarette, she took it wearily.

After she inhaled the smoke, she began to speak.

"Toni-"

"If you're going to question my honor, you may call me Antonina."

Her eyes became wide, as I spoke. She studied me, before trying again.

"Antonina, I am only concerned, because of John. He is my husband and the father of my child. You come back at a rather opportunistic time, given the circumstances. I know this family trusts you, but I don't know that I do when it comes to the company. Do you understand what I mean?"

Stubbing out my cigarette, I studied her, before I spoke.

"Esme, I don't have to defend myself to you, God, or anyone. But I will tell you this: I love this family. I love Tommy. I always have. You may be John's wife, but you don't know business like me. So I'll tell you something: I have more to lose than you do by helping Shelby Company, Limited. It could cost me my life if things go poorly. So the next time you think about me not having honor, you'll remember that I am risking a great deal by fulfilling this role. I gave my word and honor is everything to me. I hope you can say the same."

Not bothering to see her reaction, I walked out of the room, towards the stairs to Tommy's room.

Although it wasn't incredibly late, I felt the fatigue hit me like a freight train. I decided to retire to bed, knowing Tommy wouldn't likely join for hours.

Yet as I began to strip out of my dress, Thomas entered the room.

As he closed the door, he leaned against the door frame, studying me. Although his pupils dilated in desire, he still had a worried look on his face. His comment about my thin frame was likely troubling him.

I smiled at him, as I continued to strip down to my shift. As I strode to him, I place my hand in his.

"Thank you for defending me in front of the family, Tommy."

He caressed my hand, before moving his own to my face. He kissed me tenderly, before speaking.

"I will always defend you, Toni. Don't worry about Esme. She's uneasy about the whole expansion, not just your part in it."

"Does the entire family think of me that way?"

"No, I don't think so. I know you gave your word. They know you."

"So you start tomorrow, aye? What do you need me to do exactly? You still haven't told me and I leave before dawn."

He sighed, lighting another cigarette. He strode across the room, looking out the window into the night.

"There will come a time very soon, when Alfie will likely consult you about our activities in London. I need you to try to arrange a meeting between us. Try to earn his favor for me."

"And if he doesn't notice your activities right away?"

"He's going to. It will be impossible for it to go unnoticed by him."

"What are you going to do, Tommy?"

I studied him, as he exhaled the cigarette smoke. His jaw tensed and I knew he wasn't going to tell me. I sighed, leaning into his arm.

Maybe, the secrecy would be better. It was likely better if I didn't know.

A moment later, he spoke.

"I promise you this: I am going to have some of my boys keeping an eye on you going forward in London. I know Alfie has protected you, but I don't want to take a risk. You will be safe. It will be dangerous for a little while, but I know you can handle it."

As he put his arms around me, I relaxed into him. Even discussing business, I loved these moments with Tommy.

I felt whole again.

"I am going to miss you, Tommy."

Tommy spun me around, cupping my face in his hand.

"I am going to miss you too, Antonina. I promise you that I will see you soon."

As he kissed me, I felt the fire building all throughout my body.

As we went to bed, our fires grew to one.


	28. A Broken Promise: Part Six

Hello everyone! As noted before, this is the sixth part of the second series of my Peaky Blinders FanFiction story "Ghosts of Our Past." To understand the main original character's origins, looks, and story line, please go back to the first chapter of this entire story, under the title "Ghosts of Our Past: A Dying Promise." All of the story is under this story line, so it will be easier for my previous readers to keep up with the updates. :)

As a general note, this chapter does have some violence in it. Please be advised, when reading.

Enjoy!

xxA

* * *

A Broken Promise (Series 2)

Part Six:

Despite how difficult it was the say goodbye to Tommy for the time being, the busy streets of Camden Town were a welcome sight, as I walked to work in the crisp, early spring air.

It had only been one day since Tommy's men had taken me back to London, and yet, I felt like a new woman.

As I walked into the offices of the 'bakeries' of Alfie Solomons, I bid Ollie good morning with a cheerful smile on my face.

"Good morning, Tonya," he said, using the Russian diminutive of my first name, Antonina. Seeming more nervous than usual, Ollie continued, "Alfie has asked to see you first thing."

Looking at him wearily, I wondered what mess they had gotten themselves into while I had been gone.

"Thanks Ollie."

As he shuffled away rather quickly, I couldn't help, but feel a sinking feeling in my stomach.

As I opened the door to Alfie's office, I didn't choose to say anything as he had his back turned towards the door.

The click of my heels alerted him to my presence.

"Tonya, sit 'own there. I need'a talk to ya 'bout business."

"What happened now, Alfie?"

He began to slowly circle around the office, like a predator circling its prey. Instinctively, I felt my guard go up.

Whatever it was, it involved me: and it was not a good sign.

"Now you know me, I'm a fair man. I'm a smart man. I treat you fairly. I gave you a job. I gave you time off to go to your funeral for a few days. I'm a carin' man."

"Get to the point, Alfie."

"Right, always rushin' good things, like a good American that you are."

I cocked my head, raising my eyebrows. He still wasn't getting to the point quick enough.

He smirked, shaking his head. As he took his seat across from me, he put his revolver on the desk.

It did not go unnoticed by me, but I didn't react. I looked him in the eye, waiting for him to continue.

Alfie was always about theatrics, whether he recognized it or not.

This was sure to be a show.

"So tell me Antonina, why is it that when you go to Birmingham for a few days, there's suddenly this wild pack of gypsy Birmingham fucks comin' to Sabini's club and tearin' it apart? The same gypsy fucks that you had relations with? Do you 'ave somethin' to tell me, Tonya? I thought we had enough trouble here as it was with the fuckin' Italians."

Raising my brows again, I lit a cigarette in response. I needed a moment to think about my answer.

In all honesty, Tommy had given me no indication that he would do something like this. Although I knew that he was beginning his expansion, I didn't think he'd go into Sabini's club and break the rules.

I decided to opt for an air of truth. There was no point in foolin' Alfie.

"I didn't know that they'd be targeting Sabini in this way, Alfie. I just knew the Blinders were wanting to expand their business. That much I can tell you."

Looking me over, he narrowed his eyes, before visibly relaxing. He believed me.

Although I felt the breath I had been holding in leave my lungs, I didn't react in a way that told Alfie I had been uneasy. I did not want to seem suspicious.

"I knew you wouldn't betray me, Tonya, but I felt a little strange about the whole business given the circumstances. I see that it caught you off guard. Hmmm."

I nodded, mulling over his words. I hoped that I hadn't betrayed him by discussing business with Tommy, but it was merely a base level conversation.

Tommy had likely done his own research.

"So this Thomas Shelby is wantin' to make allies with me. Why do you think that is?"

I inhaled a breath of smoke, blowing it out moments later as I considered Tommy's motives.

For a woman with answers, I found that I had very few in this moment.

"I don't have the answer to that, I'm afraid. I just know he took a risk to align himself with you. Why do you think that is, Alfie?"

He moved his head back and forth, before answering, as if the motions would find him the answer he needed.

"Besides business expansion, he might be wantin' something under my watch, I reckon."

"Your rum?"

He scoffed, laughing. It was always music to my ears when Alfie genuinely laughed-he had one of those laughs that was infectious.

"For a smart lass, you're quite aloof. I think he's hopin' to gain your favor through it, love."

I smiled, shaking my head. I hoped Thomas wasn't stupid enough to go forth with this expansion as a way to solidify things with me or gain favor with me.

He had a lot to lose getting himself involved in the race war, just to expand business.

Then again, men did stupid things for those they loved.

"I'm not sure it's possible to gain favor with me through business, I'm afraid."

He laughed again, taking out some rum to split between the two of us.

As we sipped the rum, he looked to me.

"Tell me about this Thomas Shelby."

"More than you already know?"

I had told Alfie a great deal about Thomas' personal character and what had transpired between us. There were few secrets between Alfie and me.

"I wanna know if you trust 'em."

I raised my eyebrows at Alfie.

"As a fuckin' business man, Tonya."

I didn't hesitate, as I answered.

"Yes, I do. He is a good man to have an alliance with. He is a bad man to be against. I reckon the alliance could be fruitful for the two of our companies. He has man power and you have resources."

Alfie took a swig of rum, as he mulled over my words.

"Alright, I want you to send an invitation to the mad fucker. First thing."

"I'll do it now."

As I got up to leave, Alfie smiled at me.

"Good to have you back, Tonya. I missed ya around these bakeries. It wasn't the same without ya."

I smiled back at him.

"It's good to be back, Alfie."

As I walked out of the office, Ollie visibly relaxed at the sight of me as he was about to enter. I chuckled to myself, heading to my office.

For one of Alfie's right hand men, he was the most nervous gangster I had ever met.

* * *

My first day back to the bakeries seemed to be never ending, as I realized that so much had been neglected in my absence.

In the days that I was gone, numbers had been off in the books, we had sustained the loss of a few men to the Italians, and an error in production had ruined a batch of rum.

It was amazing how things had seemed to go to hell in the matter of days in my absence. I didn't have time to think about my time in Birmingham or even think about Thomas like I had the entire day before.

When it became half past eight, I decided that whatever messes that continued to exist would have to wait until the morning. I had already spent nearly twelve hours at the bakeries and my eyes were starting to cross from the exhaustion.

As I bid Ollie a farewell, he asked me if he should have one of the men walk me home. I shook my head, waving him off as I stepped into the Camden Town night's air.

Although many women would be afraid to walk alone in Camden Town, all of the men knew and respected me, due to my affiliation with Alfie Solomons. I had never felt unsafe walking home.

Often, the walk home gave me a chance to decompress the day's activities. Usually, it was a time to think about the next steps in our business plan.

Instead, I found my thoughts returning to Tommy. I smiled to myself, as memories of the previous few days came into mind. My thoughts drifted to our farewell, the day before.

 _Standing outside the Shelby residence, Tommy's men prepared the vehicle that would take me home to London. Staying true to his word, Tommy had sent for a plethora of new dresses and luggage to accompany me back to London._

 _Looking at sliver of daylight beginning to take the Birmingham sky, I knew it was time for us to depart._

" _So I guess this is goodbye, Tommy."_

 _Tommy took my face into his hands, kissing me with a sense of urgency. He rested his forehead on mine, as he spoke._

" _This isn't goodbye. I promise you that I will see you soon. Keep an eye out in the next few days for me."_

" _I love you, Thomas Shelby."_

" _I love you, Toni."_

 _As I entered the vehicle with three of Tommy's best Blinders, I couldn't help, but feel the tears come._

 _Tommy caught my eye, smiling sadly._

 _As the vehicle began to drive down the street, I saw him turn to leave, ready to start the day._

As I turned the corner on the familiar route home, I snapped back to reality, as I felt an uneasy feeling take over me and my scalp began to prickle with anxiety.

I looked ahead to see a man, who seemed to be intently watching me. Although I was no stranger to men's glances, I had never felt such alarm in this side of town, as I did in this moment. As I passed him, I thanked the heavens that I remembered to slip my knife into my wrist as I always did on my walks home.

Twenty yards away, I turned my head around my shoulder to see if he was still watching me. I felt my blood turn cold, as I realized he had begun to slowly follow me.

As I began to walk faster, I gripped the knife in my hand evermore tightly. Clutching my handbag with my other hand, I undid the fastened button, in the event that I needed my handgun.

Ducking down a different corner, I had hoped that I would lose the man following me.

Seeing an alleyway, I turned the corner, hoping that it would be enough to lose him.

It didn't dawn on me until I turned the corner, that this was like my dream so many days ago.

I was not being followed. I was being herded.

I had fallen into the trap.

As I met a group of seven men waiting in the alleyway, I quickly turned to leave and I was directly met with the man's face who had herded me here.

I was outnumbered, eight to one.

I had no chance.

I knew that I could not take them all out, but I would die trying.

An Italian accent broke through the night's silence, confirming to me that it was Sabini's men.

"Anna Stepanova...it's lovely to finally meet you in person...or may I say, Antonina Paltrowicz?"

Not bothering to confirm my identity with words, I took advantage of the element of surprise. Pulling my right hand up, I slashed the knife across his face, his blood splattering across my own face. He immediately crumpled to the ground, grasping his face and screaming.

I immediately turned, elbowing the person who had come to grab me. As yet another man came to grab me, I punched him with all of my might, slicing his abdomen in another motion. Another man grabbed my arm, punching the crease of my elbow, making me release my knife onto the ground. I screamed, trying to grab the gun from my handbag.

I was a second too late.

Before I could shoot, I was punched across the face, falling onto the concrete and losing my gun in the fall. As I hit the ground, I felt the blood begin to pool down my face. Another man kicked me swiftly in the ribs, repeatedly. With each kick, I cried out.

Finally, he stopped after nearly a dozen kicks. A moment later, two of the men picked me up. Grasping my face, a henchman forced me to look into his eyes. As he did, I spit the blood pooling in my mouth onto his face.

In response, I received another punch to the face, busting my lip wide open. I squeezed my eyes shut in pain, not bothering to even scream. It was useless.

"Well well well...if it isn't Thomas Shelby and Alfie Solomons' whore. Tommy Shelby broke the rules….now it is time for you all to pay. Sabini told us you would be a hard one to catch, but I didn't quite believe him. You sure are a fighter….I can't wait to see what you're like when we take you for some private fun."

As I went to scream in protest, my mouth was covered. Soon, I was carried towards a vehicle. I tried to fight the men as they carried me, biting and kicking, but it was no use.

I was thrown into the backseat, the men squeezing in beside me.

Soon, we were driving down the street at full speed.

"Where the fuck are you taking me?"

"Don't worry, love. You'll find out soon enough. But now is our time for fun, before you die."

As one of the men began to grab my breasts, I headbutted him. My adrenaline was rushing, as I kept thrashing around, striking anyone I could.

Soon, the men overpowered me, holding my arms in place with the weight of their bodies. Still, I tried to kick, as the other man began to slide his hand up my dress.

"Trying to make it hard, I see…." the man's sadistic voice rang in my ears, as he began to kiss my neck.

Suddenly, a pair of headlights lit up the interior of the car. A second later, another car plowed into our own. The henchman to my right began to speak rapid Italian as he exited the backseat of the car.

Gunshots rang in the night and his body crumpled to the ground. Using this as my chance, I elbowed the man to my left so hard, his nose broke on impact. As I fled the car, I collapsed onto the pavement.

As the shots continued to ring out, I stayed on the ground, covering my head in the event a stray bullet came my way.

When the gunshots ceased, another set of arms began to pick me up. As I began to panic and thrash around, the soothing accent of a Birmingham man rang in my ears.

"Miss Casey, it's alright. It's alright...we work with Tommy. We're Peaky Blinders."

When I heard Tommy's name, I finally began to cry.

As strong as I had been in the fight for my life, I realized now that if they got to me, they likely got to him. Not even confronting the hell that I had just been through, my thoughts only turned to him.

I only hoped that he was okay.

"Is Tommy okay?"

"I don't know, Miss. I will find out when I can."

As the adrenaline began to wear off and the sobs started to rack my body, my legs gave way. Luckily, the Blinders men caught me. I felt my consciousness begin to waver, though I fought to hold onto it.

Looking me over, he began to speak.

"Miss, you're injured. We need to get you to the hospital."

"Take me to the hospital in this district. I need you to ring Alfie Solomons, as soon as you can."

As they began to carry me into the vehicle, I took one last look at the men who captured me. Each one lay dead in their own pool of blood.

The war had begun.


	29. A Broken Promise: Part Seven

Hello everyone! As noted before, this is the seventh part of the second series of my Peaky Blinders FanFiction story "Ghosts of Our Past." To understand the main original character's origins, looks, and story line, please go back to the first chapter of this entire story, under the title "Ghosts of Our Past: A Dying Promise." All of the story is under this story line, so it will be easier for my previous readers to keep up with the updates. :)

Enjoy!

xxA

* * *

Part Seven:

It was late in the afternoon, as the sun began to illuminate the hospital room in Camden Town, London.

Alfie Solomons sat in the chair, resting just in front of Antonina's bed. He had not taken his eyes off of her, since he had walked into the room over an hour before.

Just the previous evening, his most trusted advisor, confidant, and friend had been attacked by those he had been at war against since the Great War.

He never thought they would go after her.

Women were supposed to be safe.

She was supposed to be safe.

And yet, here she lay unconscious.

She was one of the most beautiful woman that he knew, but now she was completely unrecognizable.

Her short hair was matted as dried clumps of blood stuck to her fringe from the now closed gash on her forehead.

Her delicate cheekbones were marred with the sight of deep purple bruises and stitches to the right cheek. A smaller bruise had formed under her eye.

Her lip was cut open and sewn back shut, her neck dotted with the outline of a man's hands.

Her hands were covered in self defense wounds, a deep purple bruise on the inside crease of her elbow had formed.

Eight men against one woman: she didn't have a chance.

Checking his pocket watch, he knew that he needed to leave to return to the bakeries. He had revenge to plan and a vendetta to execute: but he realized that the person he needed to consult lay in the hospital bed in front of him.

Deep shame filled Alfie Solomons.

He had failed Antonina, when she had needed him most. His men were not even there to save her, the Peaky Blinders had done what he had promised he would do all along.

Knowing that he needed to solidify an alliance with the Peaky Blinders, he knew that he needed to get in touch with the man who had likely also contributed to putting Antonina where she was now.

As he left Antonina's room, he began to take out his frustration on the nursing staff for not washing the blood out of Antonina's hair.

"What the fuck am I payin' you for an entire hospital room, if you cannot even manage to wash the blood out of her fuckin' 'air, aye? If this isn't fixed on the count of fuckin' now, there will be 'ell to pay."

As the nurses scrambled to Antonina's room, he lit a cigarette, nodding at the collection of men who were guarding Antonina's door.

The war had begun.

Alfie needed to move fast.

He had already lost this battle.

He wouldn't lose Antonina.

* * *

Just a few hours north of London, Tommy Shelby laid in a hospital bed in Small Heath.

Just the night before, a similar situation had come into play, only this time the actors were different. Sabini and his men had come to find him. They beat him within an inch of his life, before Inspector Campbell and his men prevented his murder.

Now as Thomas Shelby lay in the hospital bed, the man who had saved his life had come for a visit.

"Ready for a visitor, Mr. Shelby?"

"No."

The familiar Irish accent filled the air. Tommy tensed, not bothering to look at the man he had grown to hate the most in his life.

"I'm here on the King's orders. I'm afraid I must insist."

As the sound of the cane came closer, Tommy Shelby looked to see the Inspector.

"Ah, you paid extra for daylight. The racketeering business must be booming."

Thomas stayed silent, as the Inspector looked him over.

"Are you not going to thank me for saving your life?"

"Pass my cigarettes."

The Inspector looked to him, sighing. He grabbed Tommy's cigarettes, giving them to him as he spoke.

"Three nights ago, at the cooperative stables on Montague Street, there was a murder. A man named Duggan. The Oxfordshire constabulary found his body in a shallow grave."

Tommy looked at him, unamused.

"I need to piss."

"Nurse?" Tommy called out.

As he did, the Inspector pressed his cane into Tommy's injuries, before continuing, "I know it was you who carried out the murder of Mr. Duggan."

As he let go of Tommy's shoulder, Tommy lit a cigarette. He began to smoke, studying the Inspector. He began to speak, changing the subject.

"Oh, by the way Grace, she went to New York. A place called, uh, Poughkeepsie. She's married now."

"To a banker. He's rich. I am sure she's very happy now."

Tommy continued smoking, attempting to ignore the Inspector. The Inspector continued speaking anyways.

"You have been under my microscope for some weeks now. I have been observing every move you make. That is why I was on hand to save your life."

"I imagine being shot by a woman hurts the same as being shot by a man. Just a bit more shameful. You know, Mr. Campbell, when I got shot they have me a medal. Yeah. No medal for you, I bet."

"Speaking of women, Mr. Shelby, how is Miss Antonina Paltrowicz doing? I heard that Sabini's men did a nasty job on her last night."

Tommy's breath caught in his throat, as he narrowed his eyes at the Inspector.

Was he telling the truth?

What had happened to Antonina?

Smirking, the Inspector studied him and his reaction.

"Oh, you didn't know. This must be a first for Thomas Shelby. I heard that it wasn't an even fight. Eight to one. She took out two of the men, I'm told, but the poor woman had no chance."

Even though he didn't want to show weakness in front of the Inspector, panic began to consume Thomas Shelby.

It couldn't be true.

He had just gotten her back.

Sighing, the Inspector continued, finally taking pity on Tommy.

"As much as it would give me joy to say otherwise, she's alive, for now. Defenseless in a hospital bed, much like yourself. So listen to me very carefully, Mr. Shelby. Our reunion is part of a very carefully worked out plan, which has been in place for some time now."

Tommy narrowed his eyes at the Inspector.

"Every time you lean on that stick, I bet you see her face."

As the Inspector grabbed Tommy's cigarette, putting it out, he pressed on Tommy's chest with his hand. Tommy grimaced in pain.

Soon, he held Tommy by the throat.

"I don't think it was Grace who shot me, Mr. Shelby, but she won't admit to me that it wasn't her. So, if I were you and I wanted to keep that whore of yours in London safe, I'd listen to me very carefully. As a result of the information in my possession, I can charge you with murder at any time and provide two impeccable crown witnesses whose testimony will lead you directly to the gallows. I can send for Antonina at any time and deposit her on Sabini's doorstep to finish what they started. You are on my hook, Mr. Shelby. And from this moment forward, you belong to me."

As the Inspector released Tommy's throat, he began to walk away.

"So, get well quickly. I'll be in touch the moment I hear you can piss standing up. Then, I will send you your instructions."

As the Inspector left the room, Tommy's heart was racing.

Antonina was placed in danger, because of his actions. He had no idea how bad she got it, but knowing the numbers of the fight, he knew that it wasn't good.

They could come for her at any time.

He was supposed to be in the hospital another three weeks, but he couldn't wait.

It could be too late for her.

As he yelled for the nurse, he began to plan his next steps.

He would be going to London: even if it killed him.

He had to get to her.

He had to get her out of London.

* * *

Nearly four days later, Thomas Shelby found himself standing in front of Antonina's hospital bed, as she slept.

Prior to his entrance into her hospital room, he had been told by a member of the nursing staff that she had spent most of the time unconscious.

There was one particular bit of information that troubled him the most: there was one instance where she had woken up in a stupor, screaming that they had found her. She was crying for a man named Tommy. The nursing staff could not console her and they were forced to put her under the effects of a powerful medicine.

She had been asleep every since.

She had been crying out for him. She had been screaming that they found her.

And he wasn't there for her.

As he studied her, nothing could have prepared him for what was before him.

The sight of Antonina bruised and broken nearly cut him down where he stood.

Observing the collection of stitches, bruises, and other wounds she had sustained, he couldn't help feel tears come to his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Toni. I wasn't there to protect you."

As he went to touch her hand and hold it, the movement of a man behind him caused him to turn around and draw his weapon, ready to shoot.

"Forgive me for interruptin' your private moment, Mr. Shelby, but as they may 'ave told you, she ain't been wakin' up much."

As the man made his way over to Tommy, he lowered his weapon.

"Mr. Solomons."

As the two men shook hands, they studied one another. Alfie was the first one to withdraw his hand, passing Tommy to take the seat in the chair in front of Antonina's bed.

The move was no doubt a silent statement to Tommy and Tommy did not let it go unnoticed.

As he studied Alfie Solomons, he narrowed his eyes and his jaw tensed.

"Aye mate, I didn't know it was possible, but you look almost as bad as she does."

Tommy's rage began to grow to the point of it being unleashed, but he decided not to antagonize him in the moment.

Instead, Tommy took a seat in the hospital bed across from Antonina, making sure not to turn his back on her and Alfie.

The men studied each other further, before Alfie broke the silence yet again.

"While I am very impressed with your latest stunt with Sabini's club, you nearly cost me somethin' rather important and dear to me."

"I am not here to discuss business right now, Mr. Solomons. I intended to visit your bakeries tomorrow morning. I am here to see her."

Alfie snorted, before continuing.

"I'm not fuckin' talking about business, mate. I am talking about Tonya."

"Tonya?"

Alfie lit a cigarette, before clarified.

He smirked, shaking his head.

"Antonina."

Despite what Antonina had told him about their strictly professional relationship, Tommy could not help, but feel a pang of jealousy at the use of Alfie's nickname for Antonina. They were much closer than she let on.

Still, he tried to direct the conversation back to the woman he loved, devoid of Alfie's place in her life.

"How bad was it, Mr. Solomons?"

Alfie looked to Antonina and to the ground, before returning Tommy's gaze. Tommy lit a cigarette to prepare for the information that would come.

"Aye mate, it was pretty fuckin' bad. It was eight on one. She took out two of his men, before they overpowered her. She fought like hell. They took her in a car, tried to have their way with her. At least, that's what your men told me. Your men were the ones that saved her and stopped whatever foul things Sabini's men were tryin'. She's got a nasty concussion, likely some swelling on the brain. Broken ribs, cuts and bruising all over. She's been unconscious most of the time. Probably good for her. I 'ope she doesn't remember a fuckin' thing."

Tommy's jaw had tensed to the point that he felt blood from his previously healed wounds leach into his mouth.

His heart raced at the information and his stomach fell to the floor.

It was worse than he expected.

She had been through hell and back, because of him.

She couldn't stay here.

"I've come to take her home, Mr. Solomons. Until the danger passes and the war is won."

Alfie turned his head, as if Tommy had lost his mind.

"Forgive me, Mr. Shelbu, but did I just hear you say that you're takin' one of my men home to your fuckin' gypsy camp?"

Tommy stubbed out his cigarette, leaning forward.

"Antonina is a woman, Mr. Solomons. A woman who was kidnapped and assaulted under your protection-"

Interrupting him, Alfie's voice boomed throughout the hospital room, as he began to lose patience with Tommy.

"I am gonna stop you right there, mate. You think that you can come into my city, my fuckin' city, and take her away like that? Like some knight in fuckin' shinin' armor? Let me remind you that she wouldn't have been in this fuckin' hospital bed, if it weren't for you. Don't you fuckin' forget, Mr. Shelby, that this is also your fault."

"Maybe that is right, Mr. Solomons. Be that as it may. But let me ask you this, where the fuck were you while Sabini's men took her? It was my men that saved her. And it will be my men that will protect her."

Growing tired of Tommy's insulting tone, Alfie Solomons drew his gun on Thomas Shelby, ready to permanently wipe the sneer off his face forever. Tommy anticipated his move, pulling his own revolver at the exact same moment.

As the atmosphere turned tense, Tommy's nose began to drip blood from the exertion of facing a gun pointed between his eyes.

As the two men faced one another in a deadly standoff, they failed to notice the very woman they had sworn themselves to protect and die for in this moment.

It shocked each of them when a pair of stitching scissors whizzed through the air between them, finding its mark in the wall. As they looked at the stitching scissors deeply lodged in the drywall, they slowly turned their heads to see a furious Antonina, glaring at the two of them.


	30. A Broken Promise: Part Eight

Hello everyone! As noted before, this is the eighth part of the second series of my Peaky Blinders FanFiction story "Ghosts of Our Past." To understand the main original character's origins, looks, and story line, please go back to the first chapter of this entire story, under the title "Ghosts of Our Past: A Dying Promise." All of the story is under this story line, so it will be easier for my previous readers to keep up with the updates. :)

Enjoy!

xxA

* * *

Part Eight:

It was Alfie's booming voice, echoing off of the hospital walls, that woke me up from the drug-induced slumber that I had been pulled under for days on end.

When I first heard him screaming, I thought that it had all been a nightmare.

In my groggy state, I thought that I had just fallen asleep at the bakeries after a long day of exhaustion and he was screaming at me to wake up.

It would have meant that everything that happened on the cold streets of Camden Town had been just one intense, terrifying dream.

But as my consciousness gained strength, I realized that he was screaming at the man that I had cried out for, just days ago: Thomas Shelby.

And they were arguing over me.

As I opened my eyes, I saw the two of them engaged in a deadly standoff with one another.

The irony of it all wasn't lost on me: the two men that may have loved me most in the world were prepared to kill each other over me.

Over what they thought was best for me in the outbreak of the escalated war between the Blinders, the Jews, and the Italians.

Some protection they were: they didn't even notice that I had woken up.

Filled with rage, I did the only thing that I knew would end the standoff without blood being shed.

I took the stitching scissors, the ones that I had swiped from an orderly staff in the event Sabini's men had come for me, out from underneath my pillow. I sent the scissors sailing through the air, crying out with pain as I did.

It wasn't my best throw, but the point came across loudly and effectively, as they became lodged in the drywall.

As the two men turned towards me, their eyes were wide with shock. Each man seemed to speak in succession, Tommy being the first to acknowledge me.

"Toni."

"Tonya."

Despite their acknowledgements of me, neither of them dared to move a muscle, as the barrels of their guns were ready to find their mark between one another's eyes. Each returned to look at the other.

I snapped even further, beginning to scream.

"I swear to fuckin' God, I will kill the two of you where you stand if you don't put down your fucking guns!"

Not bothering to lower his weapon, Alfie looked to me, raising his eyebrows.

"Don't think you're capable of killin' anyone in your state, love."

Taking the glass on my bedside table, I prepared to launch it in their direction, until Alfie put his hand up.

"Alright, alright, stop destroyin' everythin' in this room, I don't need this petty shit on the bill."

Looking to Tommy, Alfie lowered his weapon. Tommy followed in suit.

I didn't bother to place the glass back on the bedside table, until I knew that their guns would return to their holders.

Finally, albeit reluctantly, they each put their guns back in their holsters. Alfie looked at Tommy's face, grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket. He threw it to Tommy, Tommy catching it and nodding at him in gratitude. Tommy put it to his nose, wiping the blood away from it.

They turned to me, failing to look me in the eye.

It was if they were children, caught in the act of doing something that they knew that they shouldn't have been doing.

I couldn't remember a time when I was so angry, more than I was in this moment.

As I grasped my ribs trying to sit up further, Alfie screamed at the nurse to come in and help me.

The atmosphere was tense, as the orderly nurse came in to take my vitals.

The entire time, I was seething with rage. It was not unnoticed by everyone in the room.

Noting my high blood pressure, the nurse began to advise me that I needed to rest.

"Miss Stepanova, you need to rest. You just woke up-"

I snapped my head to her, glaring at her.

"Don't tell me what I fuckin' need right now. Just sit me up, so I can talk to my lovely guests."

Even though I was unjustified in being rude to the nurse, she swallowed and quickly did as she told.

As she helped me sit up in bed and placed a collection of pillows behind me, I continued to glare at the two men sitting before me.

Not bothering to ask me if I needed anything else, she scampered out of the room, closing the door.

Each of them studied me, waiting for me to speak. Concern was etched across their faces. I studied the two of them in turn.

Although Alfie looked like his normal self, it was obvious that Tommy had been through a beating. His blood vessels in his right eye had been broken. Cuts and bruises had littered his beautiful cheekbones.

My heart caught in my throat at the sight. He had likely gone through his own hell, and yet, here he was.

He came all the way here to be with me.

Looking at Alfie, I felt a similar wave of emotion take hold of me.

Alfie Solomons, someone that I considered like a brother in my life, had paid for my hospital room, come here to see me and he had been prepared to kill a man. Over me.

These two men loved and care for me, more than any other man in the world.

Even if they had a strange way of showing it.

Trying to process everything at once in my anger, I breathed in deeply, before relaxing into the pillows.

I needed nicotine to clear my head.

"Can I please have a cigarette, gentlemen?"

Tommy was the first one to move, taking a cigarette from his breast pocket. He lit it for me, before placing it into my mouth. He hovered closely, no doubt making some silent statement to Alfie.

As I inhaled the smoke, I closed my eyes to try to reign in my anger further.

In this moment, I knew that I was behaving just as poorly as Alfie and Tommy combined.

What a fantastic trio we were.

Finally, I decided to speak, trying to keep an even tone to my voice. The nicotine helped steady my rage.

"You know, most women would get flowers or they would have a nice man holding their hand to wake up to. Instead, I have you two pulling guns on each other. So tell me, Tommy Shelby and Alfie Solomons: how did the two of you both plan to keep me safe if you shoot each other dead? How the fuck is this war going to end, if two of the ringleaders have bullets between their eyes?"

As I inhaled the cigarette smoke, I studied the two of them. Each looked momentarily uncomfortable, although neither wanted to lower their bravado in front of the other.

Like clockwork, Alfie recovered quickly, clapping his hands and breaking the silence.

"Well, I feel like a proper fuckin' kid again, mate," Alfie said, before lighting a cigarette of his own.

As another peace offering, Alfie stood and offered Tommy a cigarette. He took it, nodding to him.

Returning to his seat, Alfie leaned in towards me. Pointing towards me as the wheels turned in his head, he began to smile.

"You know somethin' Tonya, you even remind me a bit of my mum, blessed be her memory. She was a much better knife thrower though, I'd say."

Despite the serious situation at hand, the corners of my mouth twinged upwards a bit.

Alfie always knew how to inject humor into any situation.

I felt the tense atmosphere diminish slightly.

"I wasn't aiming at your head, Alfie. It also wasn't a knife. When I'm back to good health, we can test the theory again, what do you say?"

Alfie chuckled, before looking to Tommy.

"You better watch out for 'er, Mr. Shelby. She'll pull a knife on you, this one."

Smiling, Tommy inhaled his cigarette and exhaled, before speaking.

"Already has, I'm afraid."

Alfie clapped his hands again, laughing.

"Antonina Paltrowicz and stitchin' scissors against the world. Maybe, we aren't so fucked after all."

I couldn't help, but laugh at his words.

Quickly, I stopped, as I grasped my aching rib cage.

As Tommy touched my arm, his smooth Birmingham accent rang in my ears.

"Toni, you need to rest."

"Hate to agree with 'em, love, but you've seen better days."

Tommy shot a pointed look at Alfie for his choice of words and Alfie returned his glare with his eyebrows raised, as if to challenge him.

So much for the peace offerings.

Looking at the two of them, I sighed loudly and shook my head.

As they both began to protest my refusal, I held up my hand.

"How can I rest knowing that the two men closest to me in my life are wanting to end each other over me? Now, I know that I made my point clear enough, but I'd feel a lot better if I had your words about solidifying an alliance. You don't have to bloody like each other. Really, I'm not so sure that I like the either of you very much at the moment. But war has begun again. We have a common enemy. The men who put me here. So you men have a choice to make. For everyone's sake, I hope you choose wisely."

As the men looked to one another, I felt a truce and alliance on the imminent horizon between the two of them.

But before either of them had the chance to formally agree, one of our men ran into the room, interrupting our meeting.

I tensed at the interruption: I knew that it was bad.

Losing his cool, Alfie snapped at the man.

"You better 'ave good fuckin' reason to be comin' in Tonya's room like this."

The man's face looked panic, as he began to speak.

"Aye, Mr. Solomons. Sabini's men are streets away. They're comin'," he said, looking at me in the eyes.

Alfie threw up his hands in rage, standing. He picked up the chair, throwing it against the wall.

The wood shattered against it.

"Aw, fucking hell!"

My heart began to pound in my ears at the mention of Sabini's men.

My hands began to shake at the memories of the events that placed me here.

It had never even crossed my mind that they would come for me again.

I was in no condition to put up another fight.

Grabbing Tommy's hand as he began to leave my side, my voice began to shake.

I couldn't hide my fear.

"I can't fight in this state, Tommy. Please don't let me die here."

Tommy squeezed my hand, as he took his gun out of its holster. His blue eyes held an unspoken promise in them.

"They're not going to get to you, Toni. Never again."

Alfie looked at Thomas and I, likely formulating a plan.

"Right, it seems that we're in a bit of a pickle, aren't we? Well then, Mr. Shelby, do you have any contacts in London outside the business?"

"Aye, I have my sister."

"We need to get Tonya there now."

As I tried to get out of the bed myself, I nearly fell. Tommy caught me, before I hit the floor. As I tried to stand, I began to crumple to the ground again, crying out in pain.

Not bothering to waste time, Tommy quickly took off his coat, placing it over my arms with one hand. I held the coat tightly, as he picked me up into his arms.

"She can't walk by herself, Mr. Solomons. Can you cover me?"

Alfie nodded, taking his gun out of his breast pocket.

"Aye, I will. Listen mate, if we are gonna die tonight, you may as well call me Alfie."

I looked up to see Tommy nodding.

"Alright, Alfie. Call me Tommy."

A lump began to form in my throat, as our alliance was informally sealed.

I looked to Alfie with tears in my eyes.

Nodding at my silent question, Alfie came over to the two of us to cover us.

"We need to move fast, Tommy."

As we began to move out of the hospital room, the gunshots began to ring out in the distance of the hospital corridor.

I closed my eyes, trying to breathe. I felt momentarily nauseous from the tumultuous motion and the heightened adrenaline in my bloodstream.

As the bullets came whizzing past us and gunfire was exchanged, I started to get flashbacks from my assault and kidnapping amid the shouts of Alfie and Tommy.

I started to take shallow breaths, as I began to fall down into the hole of nightmares.

Soon, Tommy's voice pulled me from the terror.

"Toni, stay with me, love. We're almost out."

I opened my eyes to see that we had briefly ducked into an empty hospital corridor. Alfie stayed perched just behind the turn of the corner and Tommy had placed himself against me and the open air, against the wall.

Gunshots seemed to ring out all around us.

Looking at Tommy's eyes, I searched the blue irises, in the event that it would be the last time I ever saw them.

Trying to remember who I was in the moment, I realized that I couldn't fall apart now.

I took the hand revolver from Tommy's breast gun holder, much to his surprise.

"I'll shoot for us, Tom. Okay?"

Kissing my forehead fiercely, Tommy nodded.

Alfie turned to us, looking at me with a hint of sadness in his eye.

" _Ee'zvee'nyee'tyeh, Antonina_."

I began to shake my head: there was nothing to apologize for. Now was not the time.

Before he had the chance to turn around, one of Sabini's men turned the corner, grabbing Alfie. Alfie's gun fell to the ground, as he began to be entangled in the fight for his life.

"Just fuckin' take her away, mate!"

I couldn't help, but scream in protest.

As Tommy tried to take me away, I pushed myself out of his arms, falling to the ground. I cried out in pain.

Looking in my direction at my strangled cry, Sabini's man began to aim his gun at me, momentarily distracted.

Seizing the opportunity, Alfie punched him and the man stumbled back. Before he had the chance to re-aim his weapon and pull the trigger, my bullet quickly found its mark and Sabini's man crumbled over, dead in his own blood.

Alfie looked to the man on the floor. Slowly, he looked to me with the strangest look on his face, before grabbing his gun, just feet away.

"Right, let's move on, then."

Tommy picked me up off of the floor, moving us towards the exit. Feeling how rigid Tommy had gone at what had just occurred, I didn't dare look at the expression on his face.

Soon, the cold Camden Town air blasted us in the face as we exited the hospital.

Luckily, an automobile was waiting for us.

A strangled sob escaped my lips, out of pure relief.

We would have never made it to Ada's on foot.

"Put her in the back, mate."

Tommy placed me in the middle of the backseat, before taking his place on the left side of me and plucking the gun from my hand in a swift motion. Looking down, I realized my knuckles had gone white from how tightly I had been gripping his weapon.

As Alfie shot one of the men exiting the hospital after us, he quickly rushed into the backseat of the vehicle, taking his place beside me.

Beating on the front seat, Alfie screamed at the driver to leave.

Soon, we were driving at full speed down the Camden Town streets.

As the gunfire became a distant sound, I felt myself relax in relief, though it only lasted momentarily.

As the adrenaline began to wear off, pain began to fan across my ribcage like a flame, consuming me. I cried out, as I grasped my ribcage and doubled over.

Although I heard Alfie's and Tommy's voices meant to comfort me, it seemed that everything was drowning out.

The pain was the catalyst that began to remind me in vivid detail of what I had been through, just days before. I began to shake as the memories of my previous experience in a vehicle started to take hold of me.

Tommy's voice cut through it the waves of pain, as I realized he had taken me into his lap. As he stroked my hair with one hand, he began to recite a poem.

As he began, I vaguely recognized it.

"In the bleak midwinter,

Frosty wind made moan;

Earth stood hard as iron,

Water like a stone;

Snow fallen, snow on snow

Snow on snow,

In the bleak midwinter-"

My voice was barely above a whisper, as I finished the next line.

"Long ago."

Taking a deep breath, I felt myself returning to the moment. The all-consuming panic had now been replaced with pure exhaustion. I felt my eyes growing heavy.

Soon the vehicle stopped. Opening my eyes, I realized that we had arrived in front of a set of buildings.

As Tommy began to exit the vehicle, he told the men to ring for Ada's flat.

"Ring the bell for flat 19."

The men looked at Alfie, waiting for his orders. Alfie threw up his hands, shouting at them.

"You heard 'em lads, we don't 'ave all fuckin' day!"

As the men ran up to the door, Tommy began to carry me out of the backseat and up the stairs. Staying behind us, Alfie lit a cigarette, holding his gun in the other hand.

Soon, Ada was out on the front porch screaming at the men, until she saw me.

She blanched at the sight and I smiled at her weakly.

Despite her anger, she was a welcome sight.

She was the reminder that I needed to know that we had survived this battle, for now.

Seething, she began to scream at Tommy.

"Aw Tommy, what the fuck did you get her into? How did you know where to find me? Nevermind, just bring her to the guest room, up the stairs."

"Lock the doors behind us, Ada. I am not sure if we are expectin' trouble or not."

Without saying a word, Ada locked the door behind us as the five of us were ushered into her new flat. Alfie and his men stayed in the entryway, as Tommy carried me up the stairs to the guest room.

As Tommy placed me on the guest room bed, he turned to close the door, locking it before Ada could barrage him with more screaming.

As he moved to the other side to uncover the blankets, I closed my eyes, relishing in the comfort and peace of reaching Ada's home.

As Tommy returned to my side of the bed, his fingertips brushed the cheek without stitches. I opened my eyes to see his worried face looking back at me.

His eyes held twinge of pain, as his soft, gentle tone of voice began to fill my ears.

"Toni, I need to pick you up one more time to place you in the bed. It's going to hurt, but only for a moment."

Looking at him, I nodded, cupping his hand to my face.

I took a sharp intake of breath, as he picked me up. A moment later, he placed me under the covers, taking special care to put the blanket over me lightly.

"Do you need anything right now, Toni?"

Too tired to say anything, I shook my head.

Following my response, he blew out the candle in the kerosene lamp.

As he began to turn away to leave, I grabbed his arm, weakly.

Although I couldn't see him in the darkness, I knew he was looking at me, waiting for me to speak.

"Please don't leave me, Tommy."

He took my hand in his, lightly squeezing it.

"You need your rest, Toni. I will be back before you know it. I need to take care of some business."

My voice was barely above a whisper, as I spoke.

"I love you, Thomas Shelby. Thank you for being here."

Soon, I felt his lips on my forehead, just beside the healing gash. I felt a tear drop fall onto my cheek from his face, as he leaned over me.

"I love you, Toni. More than you'll ever know."


	31. A Broken Promise: Part Nine

Hello everyone! As noted before, this is the ninth part of the second series of my Peaky Blinders FanFiction story "Ghosts of Our Past." To understand the main original character's origins, looks, and story line, please go back to the first chapter of this entire story, under the title "Ghosts of Our Past: A Dying Promise." All of the story is under this story line, so it will be easier for my previous readers to keep up with the updates. :)

Enjoy!

xxA

* * *

Part Nine:

Although Thomas Shelby did not like to admit it, he was in over his head.

As he stepped out of Ada's guest room, closing the door to the room that now doubled as Antonina's safe haven, he ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation.

A great deal of things was troubling him in the moment.

He had come to London to take Antonina home. Though he knew that he was likely to meet resistance at the action, he hadn't expected to meet it so quickly from Alfie Solomons.

He would have never dreamed of the intense fury that he was met with during his confrontation with Alfie, by none other than Antonina herself.

He never expected that Sabini's men would come so soon for them all, just as Antonina had woken up.

It was sheer luck that they were able to leave the hospital alive.

Sheer luck would not win the war.

In his heart, something illogical was bothering him greatly, more than any gun or brush with death ever could.

Something that he hated to admit.

He had vastly underestimated the powerful bond that Alfie and Toni seemed to share.

Just less than an hour before, Toni had risked her life to save Alfie. Something that she only did for those she loved.

Though Tommy knew that Antonina held a different love for Alfie Solomons than she did for himself, he could not help, but feel immense jealousy at the place that Alfie held in Antonina's life.

He lit a cigarette, inhaling the cigarette smoke as he thought about the woman he loved, bruised and broken, asleep in the bed on the other side of the door that he leaned against.

He needed to get a reign on his jealousy: he knew that it was a weakness in matters of business.

Jealousy often led to irrational decisions in a world that had no place for such emotions.

More importantly to the woman in question, Antonina had proven time and time again how much he had meant to her.

" _I love you, Thomas Shelby."_

Trying to remind himself about how much Toni loved him, he began to steel himself for what was to come.

He needed to discuss the next steps with Alfie Solomons, a man that was unpredictable, irritating beyond all measure, and someone who cared about Antonina almost as much as he did.

Most pressing to the serious situation at hand, they had a war to win.

They had to do it together.

As he descended the stairs, he was not surprised to be met in the middle of the staircase by a seething Ada. Though the depth of her anger may have been justified, he didn't want to deal with her fury in the presence of Alfie Solomons.

"Hello, Ada."

Although she kept a voice barely above a whisper, each word dripped with venom.

"What the fuck did you do, Tommy? You were supposed to protect her. You _promised_ me on the day of my husband's fuckin' funeral that no harm would come to her. Was it the fuckin' Italians? The same ones that came for us?"

Tommy sighed, as he lit another cigarette.

"Aye, it was. Just like I told you, it is dangerous to be a Shelby in London for awhile, it is dangerous for Antonina. Why do you think that I had my men followin' the both of you around?"

Ada scoffed, throwing her hands in the air.

"She's not a fuckin' Shelby by blood or name, but some good that fuckin' did. They nearly killed her, Tommy. This is your fuckin' fault!"

Despite his hard exterior, Tommy's voice broke momentarily, as he answered Ada. As he spoke, Ada's anger began to relent.

"I know, Ada. I've come here to fix it. Now let me by, so I can take care of it."

As the stairs creaked, Tommy and Ada's eyes flashed to the sight of Alfie Solomons climbing up the stairs to meet them.

Tommy regained his composure, taking a drag off of his cigarette. Ada noticed the change in Tommy's stature. In response, her body tensed.

As everyone stood silent for a moment, Alfie's unintelligible cockney accent filled the staircase.

"Well, I say that was close, mate. Looks like we will be okay here, for now. How is she, Tommy?"

"She's sleeping, Alfie. She is in some pain."

"Aye, I would say so. I'll send for a doctor, when I leave 'ere."

Tommy nodded in Alfie's direction.

Ada cocked her head, looking at Alfie, before turning to Tommy.

"Who the fuck is this?"

Lighting a cigarette of his own, Alfie raised his eyebrows, saying nothing at the accusatory tone in Ada's voice.

"This is Mr. Alfie Solomons. Alfie, this is my sister, Ms. Ada Thorne."

Alfie extended his hand to Ada. Recognizing his name, an undecipherable look flashed across her face. Ada looked at Alfie's outstretched hand and refused to take it for a moment, before speaking.

Alfie raised his eyebrows in response.

As she spoke, she finally took his hand, shaking it.

"Another man who failed to protect Toni. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Solomons."

Raising his eyebrows further, Alfie began to speak.

"Slightly pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Thorne."

As Alfie took away his hand, he turned to face Tommy.

"Right, well as we continue to throw the blame around about who failed Tonya and talk business, why don't we wash it down with some whiskey, aye? Ada, fancy some whiskey with the boys?"

Looking to Tommy who nodded at her, Ada sighed, looking between the two of them. She shook her head.

"I need to check on Karl. But I'll lead you to the parlor, where you're welcome to any of the whiskey that we-I have."

As they descended down the stairs, Ada led them to the parlor and took out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Before turning to leave, she looked to the two men.

"You better fix this, for Toni's sake. She deserves so much better than this. We all do."

As Ada left to ascend the stairs to check on Karl, Tommy poured the whiskey into two glasses for Alfie and himself. As he handed it to him, Alfie nodded.

As they raised their glasses, Alfie made a toast.

"Aye, to the difficult women in our life. May we do right by them and stop pissin' 'em off."

Tommy nodded in his direction.

As they took a gulp of their whiskey, Tommy spoke.

"I must say, Alfie, you do have a way with words."

Alfie studied Tommy, before he replied.

"Well mate, you aren't a man of many words. Me, myself, I can be a man of too many words, too many words. Tonya likes to tell me that sometimes, I talk too much and I don't get to the point. Maybe she's right, I don't fuckin' know. The lass drives me up the fuckin' wall sometimes, but she is a fuckin' god send, I tell you that, Tommy."

Tommy nodded, his jaw going momentarily tense at the mention of her name. Alfie watched him, before continuing and clapping his hands.

"Still a man of little words. Right, okay, you want to go straight to business then."

"That would be nice, Alfie."

Alfie nodded, pouring himself another whiskey. He stroked his beard, pointing in Tommy's direction.

"Right, so the fuckin' wops. They came after your lot, Tonya included. But they say you had your life saved by a policeman."

"I have policemen on my payroll."

Alfie considered this for a moment, moving his head around.

"I don't like policemen because policemen, they can't be trusted. Tonya...or as your fuckin' lot likes to call her Toni...she don't like them either, I am afraid."

"I am well aware of Antonina's feelings about policemen, but Mr. Sabini uses policemen all the time. That's why he's winning the war in London and you are losing it."

Alfie turned his head, looking at him. As he lit a cigarette, Alfie looked off into the distance. He began to shake his head, as he spoke.

"A war ain't over until it's over, mate. You were in the war? I once carried out my own personal form of stigmata on an Italian. I pushed his face up against the trench and shoved a six-inch nail up his fucking nose and I hammered it home with a duck board. It was fucking biblical, mate. So don't sit there with your smug fuckin' gypsy face and tell me that I'm losing my war to a fucking wop."

Tommy inhaled his cigarette, before continuing.

Now, he understood what Toni meant by her criticism of Alfie talking far too much.

"That war was a long time ago. You need to be more realistic now. We were in your turf tonight. If we had coppers on our side, it wouldn't have been so close."

"Realistic, yeah? Realistic?"

"If you weren't losing the war before Antonina's attack, then you wouldn't have sent me the telegram."

"Technically, Antonina sent the fuckin' telegram, mate."

"On your orders."

Alfie waved off Tommy's words.

"That's not fuckin' important. Under other circumstances, I'd say forget your fuckin' telegram. I'd say you better fuckin' forget taking Antonina back to your fuckin' gypsy caravan, or whatever the fuck you people live in…."

Pausing, Alfie inhaled his cigarette, exhaling a long breath before speaking once again.

"But things have clearly changed. So what is your grand fuckin' plan, Mr. Thomas Shelby?"

As Tommy leaned in, the men began to work together to calculate and execute a plan to keep Antonina safe and win the war.

* * *

The sound of the creaking door roused me from my sleep. Listening to the slow and heavy shuffling of feet into the room, I knew that I recognized those steps anywhere.

The quick swearing under his breath only confirmed the identity of whoever had come into my room.

" _Blyat_ ," Alfie said, as he crashed into the bedside table next to Ada's guest bed. I smiled, as I opened my eyes to see his silhouette in the darkness, trying to find his way.

Camden Town's most feared gangster, losing a battle against a bedside table.

"You never were one for being sneaky, Alfie Solomons."

As he struck a match, he placed it into the oil lamp, before waving it out.

"Aye, you're a keen observer. I'll give you that, Tonya."

As he set on the bed, he took out his lighter and lit a cigarette. Handing it to me, he repeated the process with his own cigarette. As he paced around the room, he took at the unfamiliar atmosphere, before looking out of the window.

I inhaled the cigarette smoke, exhaling it as I waited for him to speak.

Years of working for Alfie taught me that when he paced around the room, he had something on his mind.

"Spit it out, Alfie."

He shook his head, smiling before a grave look replaced the jocular expression that lingered on his face just moments before.

"You saved my life tonight, Tonya."

I watched him, as he walked to the bed and sat on it. Looking at his eyes, it was during this moment that I realized that he seemed many years older than he was and light years away from this conversation.

"You put your life on the line for me, Alfie. It was the least that I could do, after all you've done for me."

He nodded, inhaling the smoke. Not one for emotional moments, Alfie looked every bit as uncomfortable as I imagined that he felt.

As he looked at me, he began to speak.

"I really am gonna fuckin' miss you, Tonya."

Sitting up and wincing, I looked at him with wide eyes.

"What are you talking about, Alfie? I will be back to the bakeries in no time. I know that I won't be as sharp for a little bit, but I promise you-"

He held up his hand, cutting me off.

"Tonya, you cannot stay here for the time bein.' I hate to agree with this fuckin' Peaky Blinder bloke, but it ain't safe here for you anymore. Not until the war is finished."

As I stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray, tears began to string my eyes, despite my usual steel resolve.

"Alfie, what are you saying?"

He lit another cigarette, before he spoke.

"You never were quick to pick up on things when it involved matters of the heart, lass. It is your downfall, I reckon. You're going back to Small Heath."

For a moment, I was speechless. I couldn't process what he had just said. A part of me was irrationally lifted into the heavens from the news and the other half of me felt jolted to my very core.

The smallest part of me felt betrayed at how easily Alfie had traded me to the Peaky Blinders.

In the blink of an eye, my life was changed again.

Using my good arm, I quickly wiped the tears away.

It didn't matter what we had been through tonight.

Tears had no place between myself and Alfie Solomons.

I had shown enough emotions between us to last a lifetime.

This was not a woman's world. If I wanted to continue to survive in it, I would have to consistently remind myself to act like a man.

Clearing my throat and taking a breath, I returned to my usual business demeanor.

Taking a draw of the cigarette, I narrowed my eyes at him.

"And what about my position at the bakeries, Alfie? I'm just traded away like some shipment of your rum, aye? After everything?"

Stubbing out his cigarette, he began to rise from the bed. As he started to walk towards the door, he stopped to turn and look at me, waving his hands.

"Aw Tonya, don't be tryin' to guilt trip me, aye? You know how it is with business. We both need someone we can trust workin' between the two of us. We couldn't think of a better woman for the job. Now I need to leave and get back to _my_ business. You need to rest. So I will be seein' you."

As he walked to the threshold of the door, my next words stopped him in tracks.

"Will you replace me?"

Turning to me, his face softened. He walked to my bed, placing a kiss on my forehead. Despite the sense of betrayal and irritation I felt, a lump still formed in my throat at the action. I cleared my throat, looking away.

His voice became uncharacteristically soft.

"You'll always be my girl, Tonya. No one can replace you. After this business is finished, you always 'ave a place waitin' on you in Camden Town. Don't you forget that."

I nodded and smiled at him.

" _Do'svidaniya,_ Alfie Solomons."

Shaking his head, he spoke once more.

"This ain't goodbye. I will be seein' you soon, Antonina."

He studied me for a moment, before turning his back to me.

There was nothing more left to be said between the two of us.

I watched him, as he placed his hat on to walk out of the door.

As he closed the bedroom door, I turned my gaze to the window, studying the moonlight that came creeping into the room.

I couldn't pinpoint what emotion won over me, as I contemplated everything that happened in such a short amount of time.

Once again, nothing would be the same in my life, as it was before.

My days in Camden Town had come to an end.

Despite the events of the evening, I smiled to myself.

I was returning home.


	32. A Broken Promise: Part Ten

Hello everyone! As noted before, this is the tenth part of the second series of my Peaky Blinders FanFiction story "Ghosts of Our Past." To understand the main original character's origins, looks, and story line, please go back to the first chapter of this entire story, under the title "Ghosts of Our Past: A Dying Promise." All of the story is under this story line, so it will be easier for my previous readers to keep up with the updates. :)

Enjoy!

xxA

* * *

Part Ten:

As Alfie Solomons descended the staircase of Ada's home, Thomas Shelby was waiting at the foothold past the last step.

Taking a drag off of his cigarette, Tommy exhaled the smoke, as Alfie's burlish figure came into view.

Knowing a sizing up when he saw one, Alfie walked into the cloud of smoke to stand within inches of Tommy's body.

Raising his eyebrows, Thomas broke the silence, as he studied Alfie's troubled look.

"Well?"

"Well Tommy, Antonina didn't seem to take the news well that she's goin' back to the gypsy camp with your lot."

Tommy nodded, taking another draw of his cigarette.

"And did she say why?"

Alfie chuckled, slapping Tommy on the back, as he stepped away. Tommy tensed at the contact, his jaw tensing.

"Aye, mate, how else would I know this? I don't read minds, I don't have some fuckin' mindreadin' powers like you Romani probably got."

Taking in Tommy's unamused expression, he lit a cigarette, before continuing.

"Anyways, she feels like she's been traded off like 'some shipment of rum.' Knowing Tonya, she's probably mad that we didn't consult her first or at least include her in the business negotiations. She isn't your average woman, Tommy, I'll tell you that. Always wantin' to know everything about business."

Tommy took a drag off his cigarette, speaking as he exhaled.

"Don't forget who she used to be, Alfie. It's probably just the emotions talkin' and all the excitement tonight. She's been through a lot these last few days. She'll understand, when the shock has worn off. She's a smart woman, even if she has chosen a career with the likes of us."

Alfie narrowed his eyes at Tommy's words, as they struck a cord within him.

Alfie knew who Antonina was. He didn't need some bloke from Birmingham to remind him.

In Alfie's mind, Tommy didn't seem to know the depth of it at all.

Really until Antonina had been put in the hospital, Alfie didn't seem to recognize it either.

Truth be told, these last two years working with Antonina had become among some of the best of his life. Although Alfie was a lone wolf by nature, Antonina had become something like family to him over her time at the bakeries.

Even if she got on his nerves, as she often did, he loved her as an older brother loves his younger sister.

He may have not loved her in the way that Thomas loved her, but for Alfie Solomons, it was something fiercely deep.

Alfie would do anything for her.

Thomas Shelby and Alfie Solomons had this in common: Antonina were both their weaknesses.

The way that Tommy seemed to brush off Antonina's concerns prompted Alfie to confront Tommy in a way that seemed out of character.

Mixing business with emotion.

Taking a large step closer to Tommy, Alfie began to speak.

"Aye, she is a smart woman. She's the smartest woman I know, except matters of the heart. So I must tell you this, Tommy: if a hair on her head is fuckin' touched in the wrong way again, I will fuckin' kill you. I don't give a fuck that she loves you. I know that she'd defend you, until her last dyin' breath. I know a weakness, when I see one. And you are hers, mate."

Tommy narrowed his eyes, stepping further into Alfie.

Alfie's brown eyes and Tommy's blue eyes dug holes into the other.

"Then let me tell you this, Alfie. You're right about this: Antonina does love me, aye? I have loved her since I first laid eyes on her in 1919. She is mine. I have no intention of putting her in harm's way ever again, nor do I have no intention of letting her go again. It will do you well to remember that, when this war is over."

Alfie looked at Tommy for what seemed like years before speaking.

For Antonina's sake, he took a step back to think about what Tommy had said.

Nodding, he seemed to accept what Tommy said as true.

It still didn't make Alfie like him that much more.

"Well be that as it may, I think that is for Tonya to decide where she goes after this is all said and done, mate. After all, this has been her home, when Small Heath failed to be. But no need for this to be a pissin' contest over our Tonya, am I right? Besides, I'll be seeing the two of you soon, Thomas Shelby."

As Alfie spit into his hand and extended to him as a peace offering, Tommy begrudgingly took it after spitting into his own.

"Thank you for your service tonight, Mr. Solomons."

As Alfie opened the door to leave with his men, he turned to Tommy.

"I did it for her, mate. So take good care of her."

"I intend to, Alfie. Good night."

As Tommy locked the door to Ada's home after Alfie and his men's departure, he felt his shoulders relax a bit. He closed his eyes.

As he regained his composure, he lit his trademark cigarette to cut through the swirling thoughts in his head.

He looked at his pocket watch, seeing that the time had already passed four in the morning.

Above all else, Tommy knew that he needed rest.

Not wanting to wake Antonina after Alfie's intrusion and needing time to mull over things in solitude, he emptied his pockets and laid his breast pocket gun holder on the small coffee table next to Ada's sofa.

Taking his revolver in one hand and a cigarette in the other, he laid on the sofa, his thoughts turning to business.

Business never seemed to be far off of Tommy Shelby's mind at any given time.

Now was not an exception to the rule.

Even in the most personal, lowest of moments, Tommy had an empire to run.

Thinking about the begrudgingly, newly formed alliance with Alfie Solomons, Tommy began to calculate his next moves.

Soon, he would need to recruit some of the most capable men for the man power needed for production at Solomons' bakeries. In addition to the man power needed, he would have to form an alliance on behalf of Solomons between the Camden coppers and themselves.

Once that was taken care of, the Peaky Blinders could move on to capturing Sabini's clubs and territories.

Revenge would be enacted and the war would be won.

It seemed to be clearer now, once Alfie and Tommy had solidified negotiations just hours before.

Most importantly aside from the general business, Antonina would be safe, miles and miles away from the battlefields of Camden Town.

Despite the serious personal losses sustained in the proposed business expansion, it seemed as if Tommy was finally getting everything that he ever dreamed of.

Except for one thing.

As he trailed off to sleep, he made a mental note to himself to consult Ada about something that he needed to acquire to make that one exception to his reality come true.

* * *

It took until the next morning for the wooden door to Ada's guest bedroom to creak open again.

This time, the footsteps were much lighter, until they seemed to cease mid-step.

Hearing the swift lock of the bedroom door, I knew the identity of my next visitor.

Opening my eyes, I turned to meet the gaze of Thomas Shelby.

He leaned against the wall, likely taking in the sight of me. He inhaled a drag from the near spent cigarette, the tension in his shoulders evident.

For a moment, we just looked at each other, as if we couldn't believe that we were breathing the same air.

For once, I broke the silence.

"I thought that you said that you'd be back before I knew it. I waited for you, after Alfie left. But you never came."

He nodded, looking out the window for a moment, before returning my gaze.

His beautiful Birmingham accent was like music to my ears, when he finally spoke.

"I know. But I'm here now, aren't I?"

I simply nodded at his words.

Here, he was.

After the events of the tumultuous last few days, it seemed to be a miracle that we were here together on this earth, much less breathing the same air.

Although we were the loves of one another's lives, it seemed that time and time again fate would drive us together, only to drive us apart soon after.

But we always seemed to find a way back to one another.

And now finally, after everything, we were alone at last.

As the fresh wave of tears began to sting my eyes at the reminders of my very worst fear realized, I began to speak again.

"For a few terrible days, I thought that I would never see you again, Thomas Shelby."

Taking his cigarette and throwing it into the ashtray, he swiftly walked over to the bed and sat down on the very edge of it, beside me. As he took my hand in his own, he kissed it, holding it delicately in his large palm.

Ever so slightly, he brushed his fingertips against my marred cheek, wiping away my tears. He closed his eyes, as if he were reliving the last few days inside his head.

Taking my hand, I brought it up and cupped his beautiful cheek, grazing my thumb over the cuts on his cheekbone.

"Come back to me, Tommy. You're here with me. We're okay."

Opening his eyes, his blue irises pierced my soul, filled deep with regret and anguish.

I sighed, taking him into my arms. He tensed, likely afraid of making my injuries that much worse.

"Thomas, I am not made of glass. It's just a few broken ribs, nothing more. It could have been much worse."

As he withdrew from my arms, his hands cupped my face, placing his forehead against my own.

His words came out as an anguished whisper, as if they were apart of one of his deepest secrets.

"This has been my biggest fear ever realized, Antonina. For a few horrible minutes after Sabini's men found me, I thought that I'd never see your face again. When I heard the news that they got to you, I thought that you were dead."

He took a deep breath, after speaking. He cleared his throat, likely to clear away the threat of crying.

Even so, Thomas Shelby never failed to make his true feelings known with me.

What he may have considered a weakness, I considered it his strength of duality.

Feeling my heart break for him, I hugged him close, not bothering to acknowledge the pain in my rib cage.

It was nothing in comparison to the deep anguish that Tommy felt in the moment.

Hesitating only a moment, he put his arms around me.

As he relaxed into me, I spoke.

"Thomas, nothing will ever take me away from you again. I swear to it."

Pulling away from our embrace, he brought his lips to mine and he kissed me ever so briefly.

"I promise to make it safe again, Antonina. You have my word."

"I know. I love you, Thomas Shelby."

"I love you, Antonina Casey."

Despite the serious moment between us, I chuckled at the use of my married surname. He raised his eyebrows, looking at me.

"I haven't heard that surname in a long time, Tom."

He nodded, a spark returning to his eyes.

"So alright, enough with the sadness. Anyhow what should I call you now, Antonina? You have so many names now: Tonya, Toni, Anna-"

Despite myself, I began to laugh heartily, interrupting him.

In return, I was met with the reward of a rare smile from Thomas Shelby.

Even though we had been through so much over the last day, it felt like the old days again.

The early days, when we could find humorous moments among one another in the midst of the chaos and debauchery of our business.

I felt my humor return, something that I long considered dead.

"You cannot forget my collection of surnames, either. Paltrowicz, Casey, Stepanova."

He chuckled, as he took my left hand in his own.

"While those all sound nice, Toni, I think there is one that sounds the best for you."

Raising my eyebrows with intrigue, I smiled.

"And which is that, Tom?"

"Shelby."

Just like that, all traces of humor evaporated from the air.

As I went to withdraw my hand, he gripped it, running his thumb over my ring finger.

My lips fell open, as I drew a breath of confidence to speak.

"Thomas Michael Shelby, don't tease me like that."

"Do I look like a man who jokes, Antonina Urszula Paltrowicz?"

Looking at his eyes, I noticed the sincerity and seriousness behind his gaze.

Feeling blindsided, I was vaguely aware that I shook my head.

He continued, taking something out of his pocket with his free hand.

Swiftly opening a ring box, a beautiful diamond ring came into my vantage point.

Feeling my eyes widen, I returned my eyes to his pleading gaze.

"Thomas, is this why you haven't come to me yet?"

He nodded. As I traced my fingers over the ring, I continued.

"And here I was, thinking it was just business that kept you away from me."

"Antonina, when all of this business is over, I am going to make you a Shelby. Nothing will get in our way this time. I love you and I need to keep you safe."

Without a doubt, Thomas Shelby always had impeccable timing.

I smirked, as I spoke, recovering my humor.

"So you want to plan a wedding in a war, Tommy?"

He shrugged, seeming impatient for my answer.

As he searched my eyes, he spoke with a trace of irony laced between the words.

"That seems to be the Shelby way."

I felt my cheeks burning, from the large smile that covered my face. I felt the youthful jitters of nervousness, as I gave him my answer.

"Well then, I guess it will be our way, right?"

As he understood the weight of my words, a large smile broke out of his face. Taking my face in his hands, he kissed me.

All too soon, he pulled away and he slipped the ring onto my finger.

As I looked to admire the ring on my finger, I couldn't help, but notice the bruises and cuts that were sprinkled around it.

It was the reminder that I needed to remember what kind of world we both hailed from.

Looking up from the ring, I met his expression.

"So, when are you taking me home to Birmingham, Tom?"


	33. A Broken Promise: Part Eleven

Hello everyone! As noted before, this is the eleventh part of the second series of my Peaky Blinders FanFiction story "Ghosts of Our Past." To understand the main original character's origins, looks, and story line, please go back to the first chapter of this entire story, under the title "Ghosts of Our Past: A Dying Promise." All of the story is under this story line, so it will be easier for my previous readers to keep up with the updates. :)

As an author's note for this chapter, I think that this was one of my favorite chapters to write. You can see a lot of Toni's complexities and her tough nature coming to the surface in this chapter. Although in the past she has worked very hard to move away from who and what she was during her time in Chicago, it has undeniably made her who she is at the time of this chapter. She is a complex individual; she has a really good heart, she is fiercely loyal, and she loves Tommy dearly. That does not change the fact that she was once one of Chicago's most dangerous and respected criminals, alongside her family. It seems that Tommy may forget that from time to time. Toni is someone to fight for what she believes and what she deserves.

Enjoy!

xxA

* * *

Part Eleven:

Small Heath, Birmingham

Early Summer, 1921

As I watched the familiar sights of Small Heath come into view from the small boat deck gliding along the canal channel, I closed my eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of the smog covered town.

Although the scent in the air would only be taken by some as a vile reminder of the industrial nature of this place, it was the welcome metaphorical breath of fresh air that I needed, after spending nearly four days on the small boat that had taken me up river from London to Birmingham.

Nearly two weeks of my life had passed by slowly in Ada's guest bedroom, before the doctor would safely clear me for travel.

Although I was not grateful for the circumstances that had contributed to my many injuries, it gave me the much needed time away from the business to get my head on straight.

I needed the time to work through the demons that loomed in the shadows from my attack and return to a sense of normalcy within myself.

Although I was brave in Tommy's presence, I felt myself slip back into old habits of trauma when he had to leave for Small Heath, just three short days after his proposal.

The nightmares had returned with a vengeance.

Some nights, I woke up screaming when the memories of Sabini's attack had become mixed together with the memories of my cousin's form of retribution in my nightmares.

It had come to the point, where Ada would no longer burst in the room at the sound of my screams.

Although the doctor had prescribed me sleeping pills, I flushed them down the lavatory, as soon as I heard his car pull down the drive.

I knew the power of the pills would trap me in the nightmares, rather than release me from them.

In the final days of war after David's death, they had taught me that.

How much had changed in my life since 1918.

The only thing that gave me hope in the moments of turmoil and impatience was the reminder on my ring finger, that I would soon be with Tommy.

Bit by bit, I found myself getting better, as the possibility to travel to Small Heath loomed on the imminent horizon.

As soon as I received the news from the doctor that the possibility to travel was getting closer, I had Ada send a telegram to Tommy.

A response was received within a day that a boat was already on the way.

When I went to the docks in Camden Town, the most important relics of my life had been neatly packaged to accompany me on the journey.

They neatly fit into small crates. Everything that I had worked for over the last two years was now sailing with me to my new home.

Despite the joy that I should have felt, I still felt rather off-put by how swift it all was.

It felt as if I was no longer control in my life.

It felt that all of my control had been relegated to another person...

The person that held my heart also seemed to hold the reigns of my life, like one of his race horses.

The thought had dampened the joy that I felt that I would be reunited with him soon.

What would happen when we reunited?

"Miss Toni, we're nearly there. I sure bet Tommy is excited to see you!"

Shaking my head to ward off the thoughts and memories that dominated my mind, I turned to look at the source of the interruption.

It was Curly's voice that had interrupted my thoughts. As I turned to him, a large, childlike smile spread across his face.

I returned his smile, my heart warming at his words and joy.

Although I had known of Curly prior to our voyage together, I had gotten to know him rather well over the time spent on the rivers and canals of England.

He had been nothing, but kind to me during the four day journey. Hearing his stories about how much he loved horses had been a welcome sound to my ears. It temporarily kept the bad thoughts and melancholy from creeping in.

Hearing how kind Tommy had always been to him warmed my heart and softened the misgivings I felt about the situation.

Even now, it was the reminder that I needed: moving to Birmingham would be a good thing.

Despite his domineering nature, Thomas was a good man, who only had my best interests at heart.

It didn't matter what the world thought about Tommy: I knew in my heart how good of a man he was.

"Thank you, Curly. You've been nothing, but wonderful during this voyage. I will be sure to tell Tommy."

Curly smiled, moving about as he began to guide the boat into the dock. My words seemed to please him.

I turned my line of sight to the approaching harbor.

A group of men stood on the side of the channel, waiting for our arrival.

As we came closer and closer, there was none other than Tommy waiting for us, with a crew of Blinders men.

My heart warmed at the sight and a smile broke across my face. I was met with a small smile from Tommy.

As the men helped tie up the boat to the dock, Tommy stepped forward, helping me onto solid ground.

I didn't fail to notice the symbolic nature of the action: it was always Tommy who brought me back to feeling solid.

Looking over his face, I smiled.

Our time away from one another gave us a chance to heal. His eye had returned back to normal, his trademark blue irises shining clear against the white of his eye.

He cupped my face, kissing me briefly, before speaking.

"Welcome home, Toni. You look well. How was the voyage with Curly?"

"So do you, Tommy. It was fine. Curly took mighty good care of me."

"I'm glad to hear it. I'll be right back, Toni. Just give me a minute."

Briefly, he walked away from me to give orders to the men, unloading the crates of my belongings.

As I watched the scene before me, I lit a cigarette, grateful that the pain in my ribs no longer inhibited my everyday activities.

I looked around, taking in the familiar skyline of the industrial haven that had now become my home again.

I never thought I'd be back to stay.

It was good to be back.

Just as soon as he had left my side, he returned. As he took my arm in his, he led me to his car parked a short distance ahead.

We walked in a comfortable silence, before he helped me into the front seat of the car.

Soon, he rounded the car to get in the driver's seat.

As we began to drive, he turned to me, studying me for a moment, before speaking.

"How are you feeling, Toni?"

I smiled, glancing at him as I spoke.

"I'm doing much better than when you saw me last time. The bruises are almost gone, though I'm not sure I can do anything about this scar on my cheek.

Subconsciously, I grazed my fingers over the healed cut.

He nodded, mulling over my words.

"External scars will fade, but tell me, how are you really feeling, Antonina?"

Looking at him again out of the corner of my eye, I didn't fail to pick up on the concern cryptically hidden within his words and quote obviously etched across his beautiful face.

He was talking about the nightmares.

My good mood began to dissipate, as the familiar sights began to pass by us.

I sighed, before answering.

"Ada told you about the night terrors."

He simply nodded, as his eyes stared straight ahead. I scowled, folding my arms.

"What is it about your family that nothing is ever fucking private?"

Raising his eyebrows at me, he looked at me for a moment, before returning his eyes to the road.

"It's your family too, Toni. Don't fault Ada. She was just concerned about you."

I closed my eyes, knowing in my heart that he was right.

He had a point: I had long considered Ada like the blood of my blood. She had none nothing wrong by telling him.

When I spoke, the accusatory tone had vanished from my voice.

"Oh I know that she has a good heart, Tom. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

He took a drag of his cigarette, before responding to me.

"I am always worried about you, Antonina."

Looking at Thomas, he looked a million miles away from the conversation at hand. I smiled sadly at him.

I turned my attention to the road, realizing that we were not headed towards Watery Lane. We seemed to be heading in the opposite direction.

It was the perfect topic to change the conversation.

"Forgive me Thomas, but I know that I still remember Small Heath rather well. Are we not going to Watery Lane?"

"No, we're headed somewhere else."

Peaking my curiosity, I turned to him, studying him.

"So, where are we headed, Tommy?"

He smiled, as he continued to stare straight ahead.

"It's a surprise, Toni."

Feeling my good mood return, I grinned at him.

"Good surprise or bad surprise?"

He took another drag of a cigarette, before responding. As he spoke, his eyes flickered between me and the road.

"Depends on your outlook on surprises."

I rolled my eyes in response, though the smile across my face let Tommy know that I was excited.

I could feel a jovial atmosphere replace the tense air that had descended upon on us by Tommy's line of questioning.

"We're nearly there. Close your eyes, Toni."

I looked at him, gauging if he was serious.

"Come on, don't be afraid, Toni."

I laughed at his gentle teasing, before closing my eyes.

As he stopped the car, I began to open my eyes, until the sight of his hand obscured my view.

"No cheatin, Toni."

As he leaned over me to open the door with his free hand, he pulled me into his lap in a quick motion and I squealed.

As he picked me up, I kept my eyes closed, lacing my arms around his neck.

I felt like a teenager again, the way that we were acting.

I imagined that it what would have been like this, had the war and other events not occurred.

He walked a short distance, before putting me down.

"Alright love, you can open your eyes."

As I opened my eyes, a quaint row of townhouses filled my line of sight. It was nothing like the row of homes on Watery Lane. In front of the houses, there were small lawns.

It seemed like another world.

It felt like home. It felt safe.

But why did Tommy take me here?

Perplexed, I looked at him, raising my eyebrows to him.

As he lit cigarettes for the both of us and handing me my own, he began to speak, after taking a drag of his cigarette. I returned to looking at the homes.

"So what do you think, Toni?"

"About?"

"Your new home?"

Quickly, I turned to him with my mouth slightly open. I couldn't believe what he had just said.

For the first time in my life, I was speechless.

He studied me, gauging my reaction.

"All of this...for me?"

As he nodded, a large smile spread across my face. His eyes twinkled at my reaction.

"Just until the wedding, then you have to share it with me. A pity, I know."

As I laughed heartily, I grabbed Tommy into a tight embrace.

He really loved me.

Laughing, he placed his arms around me, murmuring into my ear.

"So it's a good surprise, aye?"

Looking up at him, I took his cigarettes from his lips, kissing him.

As I pulled away, I returned the cigarette to his lips, my fingers lingering on his cheeks.

"You bought me a fuckin' house."

"Aye, I did. So?"

"It's the best surprise, Tommy. Really, it is too much. Thank you so much."

He nodded, smiling slyly, taking my hand.

"Right, well let me show you around, then."

As he took my hand, he led me up the steps.

As he unlocked the door, he looked at me and picked me up to carry me over the threshold of the door. I squealed with laughter, in the most uncharacteristic fashion.

As he set me down in the parlor, I looked around at the beautiful arrangement of the furniture in the room. I walked around, speechless, looking at everything.

As I walked into the part of the house with the dining room, a large smile replaced my expression of wonder.

Fresh red roses sat in a vase on the table, amidst a table made for entertaining several guests at dinner parties.

I smirked at the notion that I would be entertaining many guests outside of the company anytime soon, as if I was going to be the lady of the home.

Unless Thomas had the expectation that I would.

The realization suddenly hit me like a train and my smile vanished.

Turning around to look at Tommy, I raised my eyebrows at him. He raised his eyebrows at me, taking a drag off his cigarette, waiting for me to say something.

The negotiation to move me to Birmingham. The proposal. The house.

It had all been done to somehow keep me out of the business. To keep my safe, by keeping me away from his world.

Our world.

Keeping my voice even and calm, I began to confront the possibility head-on.

"Alfie told you that I was unhappy with the move."

"Aye, he did."

I nodded, studying him.

"So, you bought me a house to make it easier for me to be here."

"Aye, I did."

"A house with a large entertaining parlor."

He nodded, his expression staying measured and opaque. Had I not known Tommy well, I could have said that his intentions were innocent enough, given his facial expression.

But it was his stance that gave him away: he had resumed his usual authoritative demeanor at my brief interrogation.

He was gearing up for a fight.

"Do you expect me to sit in this house all day without doing business outside of what we have already established with Alfie, Thomas?"

When he didn't answer after a few moments, I nodded. My intuition was spot on.

Walking over to him and taking his cigarette from his lips, I paced the room. Behind me, I heard the telltale sound of the lighter striking to light his next cigarette.

After a few in-breaths of the cigarette, I continued speaking. Despite the anger at his irrational stupidity and controlling nature, I knew that I needed to stay calm in the situation.

His stupidity and control came from a place of concern.

Aside from his family, I was the one thing that he was most afraid of losing. I knew it from his actions in London.

I was his weakness.

With all of this in mind, I knew that I would have to capitalize on it: this conversation would be a negotiation.

Every word, every fact, every emotion mattered.

"Is this why you proposed to me? To make me more agreeable for the move to Birmingham?"

He tilted his head, looking at me. Though I knew it was not wholly true, I had laid the trap for a fight to come, in the event he chose to say a word in edgewise.

He failed to say a word.

He knew me well.

Knowing that I had more to say, he wisely kept his mouth closed. I nodded again, walking over to the windowsill. I looked out the window, out to the uncharacteristic sight of green, to give me the courage to gamble all that I held in my hand.

Admittedly, I had a mediocre hand and I was willing to gamble it all, as if I had a royal flush.

"If that is the case and I am regretfully correct, then I will be happy to return the ring and take a train back to London immediately."

Hearing his footsteps behind, I turned to my right to see him beside me, looking out the window and processing my words in stoic silence. Not wanting to chance him calling my bluff by looking into my eyes, I walked to the sofa, taking a seat on the expensive upholstery. He turned around as my eyes flickered past his line of sight, carefully avoiding the piercing blue irises.

Soon, he spoke.

"So you'll put us all in danger, taking a stand over not working in our business and you'll leave me, aye? Is that right?"

Attempting to master a look of impasse, I tilted my head at him, gazing past him. Mirroring my earlier movements, he nodded, moving to sit on the sofa across from me. I crossed my legs, hitching up my dress. His eyes flashed over my legs, before speaking.

It felt like a lifetime before he spoke again.

"Antonina, I proposed to you, because I love you and I want to make a Shelby. You should have been one in name, long ago. I bought you this house, because it would be more comfortable for you than living with Esme, John, and the lot of them, plus the rest of the family.. This house - our future home - is to keep you safe."

I nodded again, relaxing a bit.

But his words did nothing to quell my concern about work. He had carefully avoided that in his speech.

Mulling over the tell-tale word 'safe,' I spoke the obvious thing that he was not going to say, until prompted.

"But you won't let me work."

He nodded his head, taking a drag off his cigarette.

Rolling my eyes, I took my own cigarette case from my dress pocket. Lighting my cigarette, I inhaled as he spoke.

"Outside of the trips to London, I don't want you to be involved in this business anymore. Alfie does not have to know that you don't work for me in the company full-time. I don't care if you occupy your time otherwise, but I do not want my future wife to be working in this world anymore."

I could not contain my anger any longer, as I thought over his words.

"So what am I supposed to do, Thomas? Find a job and make three pounds a week like some fuckin' civilian? Sit around a fuckin' house all day, waiting for you to come home? Am I a joke to you, Thomas?"

Growing irritated, he shook his head. He learned in, pointing at me.

"Toni, this is not a fuckin' game. You're going to be my wife, thus you will be a target. You were nearly killed in London. I am trying to keep you safe, the best way I can. I know what Alfie was payin' you. I bought the house for you. You'll have everything given to you on a silver platter, food, clothes, alcohol, cigarettes. I'll give you a monthly allowance. You don't have to work, you can afford to retire, to start a normal life-"

"Tommy, no, I can't-"

"Please, do it for us. I can't lose you, Toni."

His voice cracked on my name and his expression faltered, my heart plummeting to my stomach. My mouth dropped open at his painful vulnerability.

Truth be told, I knew how scared he was. I knew the fear and pain that etched his beautiful, troubled soul. I felt that same horrible feeling, in the moments of stupor at the hospital, when I continued to cry out his name until they sedated me.

Tommy Shelby was my one weakness.

And I was his.

My death would break Thomas Shelby. The reality was sobering, as I watched him put his head into his hands.

"Tommy, come back to me."

Soon, he raised his head, looking at me. We held each other's gaze for a moment, before I knew what I had to do.

Despite how badly I wanted to comfort him in the moment, I knew that if I crossed the distance between us, I would fold. I knew that as soon as he embraced me, I would agree to whatever Thomas Shelby desired.

I knew that if I did, it would be the beginning of the end for us, as we knew it.

Because I was never made to be what he had described in the previous moments. I would grow mad, waiting for him each day.

Like a lapdog waiting for its owner.

I would never be that woman.

How could I prevent that from happening?

Thinking about the last two years, I found an unlikely source of inspiration. It would take pure madness to salvage this moment.

It would take an action from someone like Alfie Solomons to salvage this.

Looking at Thomas, I slid my hand up my leg until I hit my garter. His eyes followed my actions, betraying the shock he felt throughout them by my lack of physical comfort to his emotional plea.

Resting my hand there, I began to speak, deviating from the emotion that hung over the room.

"Let me tell you a story, Thomas. Something that I think you need to know about me, as we are talking right now. I don't want to leave you. I promised you once before that I would not leave you again. I love you more than life itself. I want the same things you do, excluding my retirement. If I don't convince you by the end of my story, then I will consider your offer. Alright?"

Clearing his throat, he studied me, with his eyebrows raised. He nodded, as he lit another cigarette, seeming to recover from his moment of weakness.

My feared business man had returned to the room. Taking a breath of confidence, I began to speak.

"Once I sat across from a man in Chicago, a Russian gentlemen. He was the leader of a competing company. You see, my parents sent me there to negotiate an alliance between our company and his own. My mother never was a great negotiator. She liked to torture men, to get what she wanted. She had a temper, you see. My father decided that it would be best if I went, as his Russian was mediocre at best."

I stopped for a moment, taking a small butterfly knife from my garter. His breath hitched, as he watched me, flicking it around between my fingers. Flicking my wrist, I sent the knife, whizzing past him into the wall with ease. Raising his eyebrows at me and tilting his head, I knew that I had further gained his attention like business that had fallen into his lap. I continued to speak.

"Although I was seventeen, it should have been an easy negotiation. We had a common enemy, common business, common interests. I had an attractive offer. But you see, there was a problem."

As I sent the second butterfly knife into the wall, it stuck in the same place, just centimeters from the first blade. Giving him a moment to process this information, I continued.

"Some disagreements arose over the logistics of it all. Once the negotiating on figures, involvement, and manpower began, he didn't seem to think that women had an equal place in this business. You see, I deserved less, because I did not have a cock. He didn't seem to take my status, my personhood, or my position seriously. He couldn't believe that the young woman that sat before him had killed before. Easily. Effortlessly. Better than any man in the Paltrowicz Enterprise. He didn't seem to believe the stories about me. He was arrogant, because he had a great deal at his disposal. He had power. I kept this in mind. I had almost forgiven him for his lack of respect until he _fatally_ disrespect me, asking me to fuck him to close the deal, if I really wanted it."

I stopped, smirking at the memory.

How the man had laughed, when he said the only true place for a woman in this business was to fuck to consolidate power or to be a whore for pleasure.

"I am a woman of patience, but I am also my mother's daughter. He made the wrong decision that day."

Seeming to recover his voice, he flicked the cigarette to the floor.

When he spoke, he used the cool business tone reserved for men in business meetings.

"So what did you do, Antonina?"

Thinking about the ending of the story, I sent the third knife into the wall and it stuck into the same place as the other two knives.

Looking him in the eyes, I answered his question.

"I will spare you the gruesome details, but I did what I had to do to get what I wanted and what my family needed. Instead of an alliance, we gained a new acquisition of assets, power, respect, and men that day. From that day on, I was never doubted again by him or any man. There were dozens of men in or around his office that day. They likely shared his same sentiments about women, but I walked out of there with everything and more that we needed. So hear me out, Tommy. I know that London scared you. I would be lying if I said that it didn't scare me too. But Tommy, I can stand my ground. I can hold my own. I can kill like no one else has, if needed. When will you learn that I can protect myself, given the resources at our disposal? If you want me to stay here, then you need to let me work in the company. Otherwise, you will lose me. I was not made to entertain a home. I was not made to sit idle. I was made for this work. It is what I know."

As Tommy mulled over my words, I rose from the sofa and walked over to the knives. Taking them out, I walked back to the sofa across from Tommy. Placing them back into my garter in rapid succession, I caught his eye.

As I slid my dress over my legs, I continued to look at him, waiting patiently. He studied me, searching my eyes for a hint of resignation.

He would find none.

Although I had gained a conscience in my time away from Chicago, I had learned that the strength, ruthlessness, and power that I held had shaped me for who I was.

I would be ashamed of it no longer.

He sighed, lighting another cigarette.

"I think that Mr. Solomons has rubbed off on you, in the wrong way. I never experienced dramatic story time with Antonina before."

Smiling slightly, I knew that I had made leeway in this stalemate.

Still, I waited for him to speak again.

As he took a drag, he spoke again, a hint of amusement displayed in his eyes.

"You have my attention, Antonina. What can I do to make you satisfied in Small Heath, provided that you don't send those beautiful knives of yours in my direction ever again?"

I smiled, before speaking.

"I want a position like the one that I held at Mr. Solomons to be honored in this company."

He looked at me, raising his eyebrows. As he spoke, he ran his fingers across his gorgeous jawline

"What about a position like Esme's, accepting bets and compiling daily figures?"

Lighting my own cigarette, I studied him for a moment.

"Please remind me, Mr. Shelby, did I accept bets at the bakeries like one of the workers under my command?"

Raising his eyebrows at me, he smirked.

"No Ms. Stepanova, you did not."

Smiling at the use of my pseudonym, I continued.

"Similar position, similar rate. Take it or leave, Thomas."

He stubbed out his cigarette, studying me.

Standing up, he walked over to me, offering his hand. As I took it in my own, I rose.

As he looked at me in the eyes, he smiled.

"I guess Shelby Company, Limited will be honored to have you as a valuable, deadly secretary and advisor then, Antonina."

Spitting into his hand, he offered to it. Copying his motions, I spit into my own, my hand disappearing in his large hand.

"Now if murderous show and tell is done here, can I show you my favorite room in the house?"

Laughing, I finally relaxed. Business was over for the time being.

"And which room is that, Tommy?"

"The bedroom."

As he picked me up, I squealed, swatting at his backside.

It was amazing how mercurial we had become in our short time reunited together.

And yet truth be told, I would not have had it any other way.


	34. A Broken Promise: Part Twelve

Hello everyone! As noted before, this is the twelfth part of the second series of my Peaky Blinders FanFiction story "Ghosts of Our Past." To understand the main original character's origins, looks, and story line, please go back to the first chapter of this entire story, under the title "Ghosts of Our Past: A Dying Promise." All of the story is under this story line, so it will be easier for my previous readers to keep up with the updates. :)

As a personal note, I wanted to apologize for how long it has taken me to update. Honestly, it was due to a combination of things: a new job, new master's program, going back and forth between Poland the United States twice...and honestly, I also had horrible writer's block! I sat on this part for months, rewriting it several times. After reading through the series and a burst of inspiration, I feel like I finally crafted another addition worthy of the story line.

As always, thank you SO much for your favorites, follows, and reviews! Thanks to liv3006, Idcam, MarvellousFiend, and 44 for the kind words and reviews.

Enjoy! xxA

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Part Twelve:

Many days had passed since I arrived in Small Heath and I quickly became settled into my surroundings.

Unfortunately, this did not mean that everything had gone smoothly during my transition back into the town and my introduction to the Shelby Company, Limited.

During these days, I wondered if I had taken on too much in my quest to have it all with Tommy Shelby.

Taking over the newly formed secretary and secondary advisor positions after the unanimous vote to offer me the positions at the latest family meeting, I swiftly realized how things were cracking under the seemingly controlled surface, due to a plethora of mishaps.

It all seemed to explode at once.

The first sign of trouble seemed to find me one early morning, as I went to check on the renovations happening at The Garrison.

There should have been men already there, painting the final touches on the walls. Our grand re-opening would happen within one week and we had no time to spare.

Instead, as I entered what would become the new pub, I walked into an unfinished mess of paint and left-over paint cans strewn around the room.

I swore loudly, kicking over a paint can for good measure.

How could this be?

Surely, no contractors would dare to cross the Peaky Blinders.

Thinking over the possibilities as to why the painters would quit on a job for the Peaky Blinders, the lone possibility came to my mind: Arthur.

In an attempt to keep Arthur out of trouble, he was given the responsibility to watch over the renovations at the Garrison.

It had been nothing short of a nightmare.

He didn't seem to supervise anything properly, as he much preferred helping himself to our future pub's inventory of assorted liquors.

Our whiskey supply was dwindling and we hadn't even opened yet.

Everything concerning the Garrison had become de facto my responsibility, as Tommy had been concerned with unspecified business and Polly had been rather scarce, as of late.

I didn't have time to question it. Instead, I took on the responsibility, as it seemed to be second nature to me by now, fixing the messes of men over and over again.

The only thing that I had tasked Arthur with in the end, was to pay the painters for the job. I knew it was important to save face, having Arthur interact as the leader of the project with members of the public, who were outside the family.

Although I had the inclination to question myself if even that had been a mistake, I put it out of my mind and I moved onto other messes.

After all, how bad could it be?

Now, it all became clear, as I evaluated the situation: it had been a stupid idea.

Something had happened with Arthur paying the painters and it meant that the painters were likely not coming back today.

Hearing the click of the safety being taken off on a handgun behind me, I was pulled from my thoughts and quickly swirled around to see an inebriated Arthur squint his eyes at me. He began to yell.

"I already told you, I ain't fucking payin' ya fuckers anymore! Get the fuck out"

Gaining the confirmation to my earlier, eerily correct premonition, I found that I had little patience for Arthur's state at 8:00am and my blood began to boil. Despite the loaded gun pointed at me, I snapped and I began to yell.

"Arthur, put that fucking gun down, it's me for christ's sake!"

Although the atmosphere was tense, I didn't feel scared, because I knew that Arthur couldn't shoot a fish in a barrel, in his state.

Keeping his revolver locked onto me, it seemed to take an eternity for him to realize who it was.

Finally, he put down the gun.

"Oy, sorry, you ain't the painters. Toni, my woman! Come have a drink with me!"

As he walked over to me, he tripped over the paint can that I had previously kicked and he fell onto the floor, his gun scattering across to me.

Walking over to him, I squatted down beside him.

"Arthur, where the fuck are the painters?"

Briefly, he raised his head, mumbling drunkenly a slurred explanation.

"T-th-they asked me to pay 'em…..I-I set them straight, we already fuckin' paid 'em!"

As he tried to further sit up, he fell back down and groaned, the alcohol likely taking its further hold on him.

Furiously grabbing Arthur by the collar, I raised his face to look at mine.

"You bloody idiot, we haven't paid them yet!"

My admonishment was useless, as I realized he had already closed his eyes and passed out for the day.

"Bloody hell," I said, as I dropped his head on the ground.

Grabbing his gun, I clicked the safety on and I set it beside him, not bothering to wake him up.

Storming out of The Garrison, I walked to my newly purchased company automobile and climbed into the driver's seat, seething.

I sat behind the wheel for a moment to collect myself from the encounter with Arthur and it was my downfall.

I thought to myself that the day couldn't get any worse.

After some time, I realized that I spoke too soon.

The tapping on the passenger side's door brought me to look to my left to see none other than the man who haunted my dreams over the last two years. The man that I swore to kill, if I ever saw him again.

All of these years and he seemed to know when to find me when I least expected it.

I couldn't run forever.

Soon, his northern Irish accent filled my ears.

"Well, good day to you, Miss Paltrowicz-Casey. I must extend my _heartfelt_ congratulations on your recent engagement."

It was none other than Inspector Chester Campbell.

The man, the murderer, and the attempted rapist.

My nightmares didn't portray him well.

He was even worse in person.

His devilish, wicked smirk was still the same, bone chilling sight after all these years. As he leaned into the car, bile threatened to make an appearance from my stomach at the proximity that we shared.

The fury that ran through my veins begged me to kill him on the spot, but the rational part of me held off on the impulse.

I would have to play nice.

Still, I couldn't hide the disgust lacing every word, as I spoke.

"Inspector Campbell, what a _pleasure,_ as always."

Nodding, he lit his pipe, the smoke wafting into the car.

I felt like I couldn't breathe.

"I must say, a congratulations is in order for me, as well. It's Major Campbell, now."

This was becoming even more nauseating.

" _Congratulations._ To what do I owe this _sincere_ honor, Major Campbell?"

Taking his arm off the door, he balanced on his cane, before continuing. As much as I wanted to smile at the realization I had left him permanently injured, the nausea was taking hold.

"Nothing extraordinary. I just wanted to confirm for myself that you had indeed returned to Small Heath, after all of these years. It seems to be you, even with the short hair."

I bit down on my lip, to quell the urge to say the most foul things that I could think of to this man.

Instead of my usual brazen contempt and vulgar hatred that would be a spectacle in a situation such as this, silence became the only noteworthy contribution to the situation.

The seconds passed so slowly, you would have thought time froze.

Tightly smiling, I attempted to excuse myself in an attempt to recover from the situation.

"Well, it seems that I have and if you'll excuse me, I really must be going."

Knowing he had nothing more to hold me for, he nodded.

"Tell Mr. Shelby that I send my regards. Since you're his secretary, please make sure to tell him that I'm _greatly_ looking forward to our meeting later this evening."

Meeting.

What meeting?

Trying not to react and expose my ignorance to their relationship and private matters, I forced myself to smile and I nodded.

"I will be sure to pass along the message. Goodbye, Major."

As he began to slowly retreat, I tried to seem unrattled, as I started the car. With my hands shaking, I began to drive away in my automobile.

As I drove, I tried desperately to keep my hands planted firmly on the wheel, despite the violent shaking that began to take hold of them.

Desperately, I tried to think of anything else, but my mind kept returning to what had happened in and around the Garrison.

As I thought over the morning's events, it began to make me hate being in this town again.

In the short drive to Watery Lane in a car he had purchased for me, I began to resent Tommy's status and the whole way of life that seemed to follow me wherever I went.

 _You missed this place every minute you were away….you were born into this life and you fought to be a part of this...what is wrong with you?_

In light of these thoughts, I sighed, realizing that I shouldn't be so angry with Tommy or his enterprise.

There was one fact that I was angry at: his reluctance to share the information that he was working with Campbell, in some way.

Instead, I had to learn it from none other than Major Campbell himself.

Why didn't Tommy tell me about the impending meeting?

 _Maybe he didn't want you to fall apart again...he views you as fragile._

I sighed, realizing that he probably thought that he was protecting me, by keeping me in the dark.

I couldn't put my finger on it, but it felt as a storm was brewing as I placed the car into park. I felt like I was the only one that could see it coming, though I had no way to prevent it.

Knowing my thoughts would further cloud the clarity I needed for my work, I decided to push them out of my mind for the present storm of paperwork that would soon find me.

As I opened the doors to the betting dens of Watery Lane, I walked past the growing line of men in front of Esme's desk, to Tommy's office, which he had so graciously allowed me to use.

It seemed fitting, considering the fact that Tommy seemed to conduct most of his business throughout Small Heath, rather than in the confines of this space.

As I took off my coat, I took my cigarette case out of my coat pocket and I strode to my place at Tommy's desk. I began to look through the invoices that required documentation for Polly and I began to lose myself in my work.

* * *

A few hours later, it was only the knock on the door that seemed to take me out of the trance that had taken hold. I blinked, looking at the clock to see that a large portion of the day had already passed by.

Placing the receipt invoice on the desk and putting down my pen, I looked to the door and acknowledged the knock behind it.

"Yes?"

"May I come in?"

Sighing, I closed my eyes to suppress the childish inclination to deny permission to enter the office, as I knew that I had to make an effort with my future sister-in-law.

"Yes, please come in," I said.

As Esme entered, she looked around the room, before closing the door behind her and locking it. She hesitated, stopping next to the door. Anxiety etched her face.

Although I generally avoided having her in my company, compassion won over the pettiness in the moment, due to her present state.

"You look like you need a drink, Esme. Have a seat. Rum?"

Relaxing, she nodded, before answering.

"Yes, please."

As she walked over to take a seat in front of the desk, I stood up quickly and walked over to the credenza that housed a few bottles of rum among the sea of whiskey, courtesy of Alfie Solomons. I poured us two glasses and I walked over to her, placing the rum on the desk in front of her. I took my place behind the desk, taking a seat.

We silently toasted, taking small sips of the liquid.

Realizing that I held the power in the situation, I spoke first.

"What's on your mind, Esme?"

Truth be told, compassion was not the only motivation for my inquiry. I was also curious as to why she sought me out in her moment of turmoil. I was not the likely candidate to confide in, though I realized in that moment, she likely had no one in the family to confide in, besides John.

She swirled the rum around in her glass, likely considering these things, before speaking.

"Have you noticed how Pol really hasn't been available lately? Why she won't even deal with me?"

I paused for a moment, a bit irritated at the question and surprised.

The only thing I had come to notice as of late, was how incredibly fucked up everything seemed to be and how Tommy and Polly seemed to be absent. I had assumed it had to do with business.

Business took precedence over nearly everything.

"No, Esme, I cannot say that I have. My attention has been on more pressing matters, but please tell me, why exactly is this so? Have you had a quarrel between you?"

"If you call holding a knife to my throat a quarrel, then yes."

Peaking by interest, I bid her to explain.

"Pol was at a seance at Mrs. Pryce of the Patch's home…a Gypsy medium. She was trying to find information about her children—"

Children?

It was then that I remembered a distant conversation that took place at Esme and John's wedding. Polly had mentioned children, but she quickly moved on from the topic as quickly as it had come up.

Seeing my face, she paused, before continuing.

"—they haven't been with her in some time. She sought out the medium, because she thinks her daughter has passed on to the next life. I wanted to warn her that Mrs. Pryce is a charlatan, that she'll just tell Polly what she thinks she wants to hear or what she is thinking…..she wouldn't hear none of it...Polly held a knife to my throat and swore me to secrecy. While I honor secrecy, I am worried about her. Polly ain't the same, Ton—-Antonina. I'm worried about her. She seems so sad."

Taking this information in, I realized that there was so much about this family that I didn't know or think about. I felt a slight, unfamiliar pang of guilt at how little I had paid attention to Polly's sullen mood and general absence. I just assumed it was due to the chaos of everything.

Still, what did Esme expect me to do about the situation?

"I know what you're thinking...why should you help me? I haven't been the kindest to you—"

"A bit of an understatement—"

"—and I am sure you wished Polly finished the job. I know, I broke my vow of secrecy. But I'm telling you, because I feel it in my blood to help Polly. I need you to talk to Thomas and I need the two of you to take care of this. Not for me, but for Polly. Can you do it?"

I looked at Esme, searching her eyes for a hint of dishonesty. Much to my dismay, she seemed to be telling the honest truth and she seemed desperate.

"Sure, anything for Polly. We will take care of it."

"Thank you. I trust you to fix it."

I simply nodded at her.

Sensing that we no longer had anything noteworthy to share with one another, she pushed herself to get up and turned towards the door.

Thinking about her motivation for confiding in me, I realized that I needed to let go of my misgivings for the woman. Feeling a bit more kind to her, I cleared my throat to signal that I had something to say.

"Esme?"

"Yes?"

"You can call me, Toni."

She smiled and I think I had something resembling a smile on my face.

As she exited, I looked to the clock, sighing. There was still so much to do. I turned back to the mountain of paperwork and invoices.

* * *

At half past eight, I paused to take a deep breath and smoke a cigarette to clear the exhaustion settling in my bones. Listening to the silence, it was apparent that the betting dens were empty and void of everyone. Pushing the paperwork away, I placed my head in my hands, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes for only a moment.

The next thing I knew, I felt the familiar hand caressing my back, before I heard his voice.

"I don't think we pay you to sleep, Toni."

I smiled, raising my head and opening my eyes. After he took his hand away from my back all too soon, I leaned back in the chair and looked to him.

"What a pity, I could use paid rest after these last few days."

"I looked for you at home, but the maid had told me that you hadn't been home since the morning. I figured that you would be here."

"Well, everything is a bit fucked up, Thomas."

He moved slowly from behind to the space in front of me, studying me, before turning his attention to his desk.

Looking over the paperwork scattered before me, he moved it aside to lean on the desk. He inhaled a drag, blowing out the smoke. Raising an eyebrow at him, I took a cigarette from my case in front of me and struck it. As I inhaled the smoke, I studied him. It was only after a moment that I realized, he was waiting for me to elaborate on my last statement.

"Things are a bit of a mess here, Thomas, and I'm not referring to the papers you so kindly pushed aside."

"How so, Antonina?"

"Have you really not noticed, Thomas?"

He looked at me, raising his brows. I sighed, realizing that I would have to paint the picture for him to see it.

"For starters, I walked into a mess at the Garrison today. Paint cans everywhere. The decorators and painters were nowhere to be seen. After some investigation, the painters doing the Garrison want paying. Arthur forgot that he didn't pay them and pulled a gun when they asked, so they've stopped and everything's green."

"Alright, well, just pay it."

Rolling my eyes, I took a drag off of my cigarette.

"You're not going to question why he didn't pay?"

Tommy shook his head, lighting a new cigarette. Irritated, I admonished him.

"Thomas, he forgot, because he was so fuckin' drunk. He even pulled a gun on me, when I walked in, because he couldn't even tell who I was. We cannot conduct business like this, Tom. If word gets out that we don't pay for services, we lose our legitimacy. It needs to be taken care of."

Like the mastermind he was, he sat for a moment thinking about my words, carefully.

"Right, it will be dealt with. Pay them and see to it that all of the finishing touches are taken care of by you. Is that all?"

Giving him a cross look, I shook my head.

"Polly pulled a knife on Esme. Polly is rather unhappy."

"What does this have to do with the bigger picture of business?"

"We are talking about your family, Thomas. It is about their happiness. Esme came to me today to say that Polly visited a gypsy medium, in search for her children. She believes one has died. She desperately is seeking information about them. Esme confronted her about it, trying to advise her that the gypsy medium was a charlatan and Polly pulled a knife on her. Things are not the same. After some thinking, I think we need to find them, Thomas, or at least, we can find some information."

"Alright, I'll take care of Polly, Toni," he said, briefly pausing to flick his cigarette ash into the ashtray.

"Another thing….why didn't you tell me about your meeting tomorrow?"

"Which meeting are you referring to, I have many-"

"With Major Campbell. Why didn't you tell me you're working with him? What game are you playing, Thomas?"

Looking up at him, his eyes bore straight into mine. I raised my eyebrows, as the seconds elapsed and I waited for his explanation.

Instead, he cleared his throat and he got up from the desk. He began to speak, which furthered my agitation.

"Now I need you to write a letter for me that needs to go out today. I put it in the diary."

"Are you really going to bloody avoid my questions?"

"This will help answer your questions.I assume you know how to address a formal letter?"

I looked at him, raising my eyebrows and stubbing out my cigarette. Getting out a pencil, I turned to him.

"What kind of fucking _secretary_ would I be if I didn't know? I can kill and I can write, Thomas Shelby."

"Fair enough, Ms. Paltrowicz. _Dear Mr. Churchill_ -"

I dropped my pencil, looking at him with my mouth open.

"Has your pencil broken?"

Ignoring his sarcastic question, I cut to the point.

"What are you doing, Thomas?"

"I don't believe I asked you to interrogate me, I believe I asked you to write-"

"Don't be wise with me, Thomas Shelby. This is not a game. This is Mr. Winston Churchill."

He stubbed his cigarette out, looking at me with exasperation. Likely not used to someone questioning his instructions in quite some time, he was weighing the next words out of his mouth carefully.

"Yes, I am aware of whom I am writing to."

I stared at him, not bothering to budge a muscle. He nodded, lighting another cigarette to replace the finished one.

"As I tell you what to write, you'll get the answers to your many questions. If you have questions afterwards, I will answer them, Toni."

Breathing deeply and closing my eyes for a moment, I opened them again and I grabbed the pencil.

As he spoke, he paced around the room, seeming to look off far away in the distance.

" _Dear Mr. Churchill,_

 _I've been approached by an agent of the Crown to carry out a task, as yet unspecified._

 _His name is Major Campbell and I believe he reports to you._

 _Therefore, I decided to make direct contact with you to make sure that certain things are clearly understood._

 _Mr. Churchill, you should know that I am a former British soldier and if you look at my war record, you will see that I fought bravely at Verdun and at the Somme. Also, you will see that my actions at Mons saved thousands of Allied lives._

 _My American fiance, Antonina Paltrowicz-Casey, served as a Red Cross medic nurse on the front lines of battles. She served at battles, most notably the Battle of St. Quentin Canal, where she tragically lost her British-born husband David Casey, who you may know as a hero of the battle. She witnessed such loss first-hand, representing the thousands of wives and mothers who gave their husbands and sons to serve our Allied forces._

 _I know that you resigned your ministerial position and the safety of an office to go and fight on the front line with the men._

 _I read that you fought bravely, Mr. Churchill._

 _Therefore, I hope that we will be treated in any dealings we have with a degree of respect, soldier to soldier._

 _In exchange for my services and on behalf of our family, I would like to formally request that the Colonial Office would grant our enterprise an Empire export licence covering India, Malay Peninsula, Canada and Russia. We plan to transport manufactured goods from Birmingham to the Poplar Docks._

 _My demands are slight and my sacrifice in service of my country will no doubt once again be great._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Thomas Shelby"_

As I finished the letter, I let my pencil fall to the side.

It was overwhelming, to say the least.

Though my mind was swirling with thoughts on the subject of Campbell and an official export license, I couldn't help, but feel my thoughts continually loop around at the words 'David Casey' on the page. I couldn't help, but feel guilty.

It seemed that I never thought of him anymore. What a shameful widow I was.

How much of a changed woman I was from 1918, when he had died.

Trying to move away from the guilt that plagued me, I came to my dead husband's defense instead.

"He was Irish, you know."

Tommy looked at me, exhaling cigarette smoke.

"David. He was very proud of it and he despised the British Crown. How do you think I knew about the green confetti in the Garrison, Thomas?"

"I don't think it would be wise to let the honorable Mr. Churchill know this, given my requests."

His words distracted me from the pain in my chest.

The pressing matters of business pushed away my grief at hand.

Lighting a cigarette, I spoke.

"So, most of my questions have been answered, but this one: when were you going to tell me about Campbell, Thomas?"

Lighting another cigarette, he shook his head at me, as if I was not paying attention.

"Toni, you knew he was coming back to Small Heath-"

Growing irritated, I interrupted him.

"That's not what I meant, Thomas. When were you going to tell me that my life was further in danger?"

"Antonina, I am taking care of this on my own. You are not in any dan-"

"Thomas, you had me write an entire appeal that mentioned my dead husband by name and his war record, plus my own service in the Great War. Don't lie to me."

Sighing, he walked over to me and he leaned against the desk, closing his eyes.

Standing up, I stubbed out my cigarette and I took his face in my hands. As his eyes opened, I could see the hesitation in his eyes.

"Thomas, I know that you are not used to answering to anyone, but Polly in this family, but I need you to be honest with me. You promised me that you would. I love you and I am going to be your wife. I knew what I signed up for, when I agreed to marry you. Please."

Not waiting for an answer first, I kissed him. Although it took him a moment, he kissed me back, before pulling away and sighing.

The words began to spill out from the lips that had just touched my own.

"Major Campbell approached me in the hospital, after our attacks. He knew about an assassination that I conducted for the IRA, after the incident at the Garrison. I have been tasked with an assignment. It will likely be another assassination. My cooperation is contingent on your life and my own. I will do what it takes to keep you safe, but I do not trust Campbell. I saw a business opportunity, as well, so I took it."

Although a million words lay at the tip of my tongue and I felt my anger rise at how little he had told me of the IRA and the deal with Campbell, I bit my tongue. I knew how much it had taken him to share these little snippets, after years of not having to answer to anyone, but Polly.

So despite the gravity of his words, I smiled at him and I nodded.

"Okay, thank you for telling me."

Cocking his head, a weird smile played on his lips. Rolling my eyes, I stepped back from him and I began to gather the scattered papers into a pile. Just as I was about to close the diary, the words "London" caught my eye under the next day's agenda, after "meeting," which I assumed was the meeting with Campbell.

I sighed loudly.

"Were you going to bother to tell me that we were going to London tomorrow, Tommy?"

"There is the irritated Antonina that I've come to know and love again. But love?"

"What, Thomas?" I snapped, growing tired of his condescending tone.

"A good secretary would know the week's events ahead of time."

Closing the diary and throwing it on my desk, I replied sharply.

"No, I think that I just have a bad employer. He never seems to be around and when he is, he is rather trying. You know, I did see a nice ad in the paper about a secretary position at the hospital-"

Taking me by surprise, he turned me around and he kissed me to cut off my words, before pulling away.

"While that may be so, I think there's something that I can do to make you stay...a nice incentive."

"Sex is not going to pacify me this time, Thomas Shelby."

He smirked, as he continued.

"Let's take a short trip, after we see Alfie."

Although I was still annoyed, he slightly caught my interest.

"Is this a business related trip? I dare say, I'm touched."

Smiling, he tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear.

"I was actually thinking a night away from business. You, me. Maybe some horses. Whiskey. A world away from all this."

Looking into his eyes, his gaze melted my heart. I knew how much he wanted to impress me and keep me happy in the midst of all the chaos that came with his world.

When I spoke, my tone was softer than it had been in a long time.

"I would love that, Thomas, but I don't know how to ride a horse."

"Well, I'll have to teach you then. The three of my weaknesses in one night: you, whiskey, and horses."

Kissing me, he pulled away, ever so quickly and he pulled out his pocket watch.

"I need to be off to sort some things before tomorrow. I'll send a car for you at eleven in the morning and we will be on the way. Don't worry about packing, I'll send for some things for you."

Sighing, I nodded and touched his cheek.

Business was never far away, no matter how much we could pretend it wasn't.

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

Nodding, he turned and pulled his cap out, walking out the door.

I couldn't deny how conflicted I felt, watching him walk out the door.

I was still the woman, waiting for a man to finish business to return to me.


End file.
